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THE ASCENT OF THE MATTEKHOKN

Iv;1»/;!§' «HEti"THEY SAW MASSES OF ROCKS, BOULDERS, AND STONES, DART ROUND THE CORNER."

THEASCE KTOFTHEMATTEEHOENBYEDWARDWHYMPERWITH MAPS AND ILLUSTRATIONSToil and pleasure, in their natures opposite, are yet linked together in a kindof necessary connection.—Livv.LONDONJOHN MÜEEAY, ALBEMARLE STREET1880IAU right* (tre tserved

PREFACE.IN the year I860, shortly before leaving England for a long continentaltour, the late Mr. William Longman requested me tomake for him some sketches of the great Alpine peaks. At thistime I had only a literary acquaintance with mountaineering, andhad even.not seen—much less set foot upon—a mountain. Amongstthe peaks which were upon my list was Mont Pelvotix, in Dauphiné.The sketches that were required of it were to celebrate thetriumph of some Englishmen who intended to make its ascent.They came—they saw—but they did not conquer. By a merechance I fell in with a very agreeable Frenchman who accompaniedthis party, and was pressed by him to return to the assault. In1861 we did so, with my friend Macdonald—and we conquered.This was the origin of my scrambles amongst the Alps.The ascent of Mont Pelvoux (including the disagreeables) wasa very delightful scramble. The mountain air did not act as anemetic; the sky did not look black, instead of Line ; nor did I feeltempted to throw myself over precipices. I hastened to enlargemy experience, and went to the Matterhorn. I was urged towardsMont Pelvoux by those mysterious impulses which cause men topeer into the unknown. Not only was this mountain reputed .to bethe highest in France, and on that account was worthy of attention,but it was the dominating point of a most picturesque district of thegreatest interest, which, to this day, remains almost unexplored !1 he Matterhorn attracted me simply by its grandeur. It was consideredto be the most thoroughly inaccessible of all mountains,even by those who ought to have known better. Stimulated tomake fresh exertions by one repulse after another, I returned, yearb

it EFACE.vuWithout being unduly discursive in the narrative, it has notbeen possible to include in the text all the observations which aredesirable for the general reader, and a certain amount of elementaryknowledge has been pre-supposed, which perhaps some donot possess ; and the opportunity is now taken of making a fewremarks which may serve to elucidate those which follow.When a man who is not a born mountaineer gets upon theside of a mountain, he speedily finds out that walking is an art ;and very soon wishes that he could be a quadruped or a centipede,or anything except a biped ; but, as there is a difficulty in satisfyingthese very natural desires, he ultimately procures an alpenstockand turns himself into a tripod. This simple implement isinvaluable to the mountaineer, and when he is partedfrom it involuntarily (and who has not been ?) he is inclinedto say, just as one may remark of other friends, " Youwere only a stick—a poor stick—but you were a truefriend, and I should like to be in your company again."Respecting the size of the alpenstock, let it be remarkedthat it may be'nearly useless if it be too long ortoo short. It should always be shorter than the personwho carries it, but it may be any length you like betweenthree-fifths of your height and your extreme altitude.It should be made of ash, of the very best quality ; andshould support your weight upon its centre when it issuspended at its two ends. Unless shod with an ironpoint it can scarcely be termed an alpenstock, and thenature of the point is of some importance. The kind I prefer isshown in the annexed illustration. It has a long tang runninginto the wood, is supported by a rivetted collar, and its terminationis extremely sharp. With a point of this descriptionsteps can be made in ice almost as readily as with an axe.A volume might be written upon the use of the alpenstock.Its principal use is as a third leg, to extend one's base line ; andwhen the beginner gets this well into his head he finds the

i: EFACE.implement of extraordinary value. In these latter times the pureand simple alpenstock has gone out of fashion, and mountaineersnow almost universally carry a stick with a point at one end andan axe-head at theother. A moveableaxe-head is still adesideratum. Thereis a pick-axe made atBirmingham with amoveable head whichis better than anyother kind that I haveseen, but the head istoo clumsy to be heldin the hand, and variousimprovements willhave to be effected init before it will be fit for use in mountaineering. Still, its principleappears to me to be capable of adaptation, and on thataccount I have introduced it here.After the alpenstock, or axe-alpenstock, it is of most importancefor the mountaineer to supply himself with plenty of goodrope. Enough has been said on this subject indifferent parts of the narrative, as well as inregard to tents. Few other articles arc necessary,though many others are desirahle, to carryabout, and amongst the most important may bereckoned some simple means of boiling waterand cooking. At considerable altitudes abovethe tree-line, it is frequently impossible to carryup wood enough for a camp-fire, and nothing butspirits of wine can be employed. The well-known and convenientso-called "Russian furnace" is the most compact form of spiritlamp that I know, and wonders can be effected with one that is only

PREFACE.three inches in diameter. In conjunction with a ,set of tins like those figured here (which are con- 5structed to be used either with a wood fire or over f.a spirit lamp), all the cooking can be done that the %Alpine tourist reqxiires. For prolonged expeditionsof a serious nature a more elaborate equipage isnecessary ; but upon such small ones as are made gin the Alps it would be unnecessarily encumberingyourself to take a whole batterie de cuisine*Before passing on to speak of clothing, a word tupon snow-blindness will not be out of place. Very ,fine language is sometimes used to express the fact :that persons suffer from their eyes becoming in- .*flamed ; and there is one well-known traveller, at *least, who, when referring to snow-blindness, speaks \habitually of the distressing effects which are producedby " the reverberation of the snow." Snowblindnessis a malady which touches all mountaintravellerssooner or later, for it is found impossiblein practice always to protect the eyes with thegoggles which are shown overleaf. In criticalsituations almost every one removes them. Thebeginner should, however, note that at great altitudesit is not safe to leave the eyes unprotected feven on rocks, when the sun is shining brightly; ;and upon snow or ice it is indispensable to shade ithem in some manner, unless you wish to be jplaced hors de combat on the next day. Shouldyou unfortunately find yourself in this predicament 5through the intensity of the light, there is no help ;but in sulphate of zinc and patience. Of the \former material a half-ounce will be sufficient for \* In the Iower diagram the tins are shown as the; appear when jpacked Jot travelling. I generally carry them ;ii the top of a knapsack,outside.

xPREFACE.a prolonged campaign, as a lotion compounded with two or threegrains to an ounce of water will give relief ; but of patience youcan hardly lay in too large a stock, as a single bad day sometimesthrows a man on his back forweeks.*The whole face suffersunder the alternation of heat,cold, and glare, and fewmountain-travellers remainlong without having theirvisages blistered and crackedin all directions. Now, inrespect to this matter, prevention is better than cure ; and, thoughthese inconveniences cannot be entirely escaped, they may, bytaking trouble, be deferred for a long time. As a travelling capfor mountain expeditions, there is scarcely anything better thanthe kind of helmet used by Arctic travellers, and with the eyeswell shaded by its projecting peak and covered with the ordinarygoggles one ought not, and will not, suffer much from snowblindness.I have found, however, that it does not sufficientlyshade the face, and that it shuts out sound too much when theside-flaps are down ; and I consequently adopt a woollen headpiece,which almost entirely covers or shades the face and extendswell downwards on to the shoulders. One hears sufficiently* I extract from No. 03 of the Alpine Journal the following note by Gustav deVili, a retired Russian officer, upon the prevention of suow-blinduess. "We wen' onthe marcii home along the mouutaiu plains, when, dazzled by the intense sun-raysreflected by the endless mow-fields we were marching along, my eyelids lost allpower to open ; I felt lay elbow touched, ami. looking through my fingers, I beheldone of our friendly highlanders preparing a kind of black paste by mixing gunixiwdcrwith snow. The General told me to let him do what he wanted. The Circassianapplied the black stuff under my eyes, on my cheeks, and to the sides of my nose.To my astonishment I could then open my eyes, and felt no more difficulty to seeplainly and clearly everything. I have tried that experiment many times since, andit never failed to relieve me, although I used common Indian-ink and black watercolour,instead of the above-mentioned paste."

PREFACE.xidistinctly through the interstices of the knitted wool, and theyalso permit some ventilation—whichthe Arctic cap does not. It is a usefulrather than an ornamental article ofattire, and strangely affects one'sappearance.For the most severe weather eventhis is not sufficient, and a mask mustbe added to protect the remainder ofthe face. You then present the appearanceof the lower woodcut, and are completely disguised. Yourmost intimate friends—even your own mother—will disown you,and you are a fit subject for endless ridicule.The alternations of heat and cold are rapid and severe in allhigh mountain ranges, and it is folly to go about too lightly clad.Woollen gloves ought always to be in the mountaineer's pocket,for in a single hour, or less, he may experiencea fall in temperature of sixty toeighty degrees. But in respect to thenature of the clothing there is little to besaid beyond that it should be composed offlannels and woollens.Upon the important subject of boots muchmight be written. My friends are generallysurprised to find that I use elastic-sideboots whilst mountaineering, and condemn them under the falseimpression that they will not give support to the ankles, and willbe pulled off when one is traversing deep snow. I have invariablyused elastic-side boots on my mountain expeditions in the Alpsand elsewhere, and have found that they give sufficient supportto the ankles and never draw off. My Alpine boots have alwaysbeen made by Norman—a maker who knows what the requirementsare, and one who will give a good boot if allowed good time.It is fully as important to have proper nails in the boots as it

xiiPREFACE.is to have good boots. The quantity is frequently overdone, andwhen there are too many thoy are absolutely dangerous. Icenails,which may bo considered a variety of crampon, are anabomination. The nails should be neither too largo nor toonumerous, and they should be disposed everywhere irregularly—not symmetrically. They disappear one by one, from timo totime ; and the prudent mountaineer continually examines hisboots to see that sufficient numbers are left.* A handkerchieftied round the foot, or even a few turns of cord, will afford atolerable substitute when nails cannot be procured.If the beginner supplies himself with the articles which havebeen named, he will be in possession of all the gear which isnecessari/ for ordinary mountain excursions, and if he uses hisplant properly ho will avoid many of the disagreeables which arelooked upon by some as almost unavoidable accompaniments oftho sport of mountaineering. I have not throughout the volumeignored the dangers which are real and unavoidable, and saydistinctly that too great watchfulness cannot be exercised at greataltitudes. But I say now, as I have frequently said before, thatthe great majority of accidents which occur to mountaineers,especially to mountaineering amateurs in the Alps, are not theresult of unavoidable dangers ; and that they are for the mostpart the product of ignorance and neglect. I consider that fallingrocks are the greatest danger which a mountaineer is likely toencounter, and in concluding these prefatory remarks I especiallywarn the novice against the things which tumble about the earsof unwary travellers.* I understand that scarcely any nails were found in the l>onts of Dr. Moseley,who lost his life recently on the Maftorhnni, and this fact sufficiently accounts forthe accident.

CONTENTS.I860CHAPTER I.INTRODUCTORY.IlEACIIY HEAD—DEVIL OP XOTIÎB PAME—VISP TIIAL—SCRAMM.IXO ALOXE—THE WEISS-HORN—ST. BERNARD—RASCALLY GUIDE—A VILLAGE CONCERT—STORH OX THEOOC 0E LAITARET . . . . . . . Pages 1-1 '21861CHAPTER II.THE ASCENT OF MONT PELVOUX.THE VALLEVS OP DAUPHINE—THE PEAKS OF DAUrilIXÉ—MISTAKES IX THEIRIDEXTIFICATIOX—EARLV ATTEMPTS TO ASCEXD MOXT PELVOUX—INTRODUCTION*TO MONSIEUR REYNAUD—GRENOBLE—MEETIXO WITH MACPOXALD—XATIOXAL SEXTI-MEXTS—WE ENGAGE A GUIDE—START FOR PELVOUX—PASS THE CAVERX OFTHE VAÜDOIS—MASSACRE OF THE VAUDOIS—FIRST XIGHT OCT—WE ARE RErULSF.D—ARRIVALOF MACDOXALD—THIRD NIGHT OUT—TORRENTS OX FIRE—FALLING ROCKS—ASCENT OF THE TELVOUX—THE PVRAMID—VIEW FROM THESUMMIT—WE DISCOVER THE POINTE DES ECRIXS—SURPRISED BY XIGHT—OXFLEAS—EX ROUTE FOR MONTE VISO—DESERTERS—CAMP ON AX AXT-IIII.L—ST. VERAN—rRIMtTlVF. MAXNERS—XATURAL PILLARS—ARRIVE AT BRIAXÇOS 1,1-41CHAPTER III.MY FIRST SCRAMBLE ON THE MATTERHORN.THE WEIS3II0RX AND THE MATTERHORN—INTRODUCTION TO JEAX-AXTOIXE CARRELSUPERSTITIONS OF THE NATIVES IX REGARD TO THE MATTERIIORX—RIDGES OFTHE MATTERHORN—EARLIEST ATTEMITS TO ASCEND THE MOUNTAIN—ATTEMIT I'.VTlir. MESSRS. PARKER—ATTEMPI' I1Y MI.SSRS. HAWKINS AND TVNDALL—ARRIVE AT

xivCONTENTA•P.REIL—UXWILLIXGNES3 OF THE GUIDES TO HAVE AXYTIIIXO TO DO WITH THEMATTERHORX—THE CARRELS ENDEAVOUR TO CUT US OUT—THE 'GREAT STAIR­CASE'—THE COL DU LION—WE DECIDE TO CAMP THERE—GREAT EXCITEMENTFROM FALLING STONES—LIGHT AND SHADE—THE 'CHIMNEY'—DEFEATED—A COOLPROCEEDING . . . . . . . Pages 42-571862CHATTER IV.RENEWED ATTEMPTS TO ASCEND THE MATTERHORN.MR. KENNEDY'S WINTER ATTEMPT—HENNEN REFUSES TO START AGAIN—THE TIIÉO-DUI.K PASS—MEYXET, THE HUNCHBACK OF I1REII.—OX TEXTS FOR MOUNTAINEER­ING—MACDOXALD AND I START FOR THE MATTERHORN—NARROW ESÇArE OFKRONIO—VIOLENT WIND TURNS US BACK—ENGAGE CARREL AND PESSION ANDSTART AGAIN—THE 'GREAT TOWER'—rESSION BECOMES ILL AND WE ARE OBLIGEDTO RETURN"—BAD WF.ATnER—SCRAMBLE ALONE ON THE MATTERHORN—PIONEERSOF VEGETATION—VIEW FROM THE TEXT—A SOLITARY BIVOUAC—MOXTE VISOSEEX BY MOONLIGHT AT NINETY-EIGHT MILES' DISTANCE—OX AIDS TO CLIMBERSCLIMBING CLAW—FIND A NEW PLACE FOR THE TENT—I ATTAIN A GREATERALTITUDE ALONE THAX HAD BEEN' REACHED BEFORE, AND NEARLY COME TOGRIEF—MY FOURTH ATTEMPT TO ASCEND THE MATTERHORX—DEFEATED AGAINBY WEATHER—THE CARRELS GO MARMOT-HUNTING, AND WE START FOR A FIFTHATTEMIT—DEFEATED BY NATURAL DIFFICULTIES TYNDAI.I. ARRIVES AND CARRIESOFF THE CARRELS—A CANNONADE ON THE MATTERHORN—TYNDAI.I, IS REPULSED—CONFLAGRATION IN DALTHINÉ . . . . . . , r »S-S71863CHAPTER V.THE VAL TOURNANCHE—THE BREUIUOOH—ZERMATT—FIRSTASCENT OF THE GRAND TOURNAI.IN.THE DOUANE—" HUT WHAT IS THIS?"—DIFFICULTIES WITH MY LADDER—EXPLANATIONOF TYXDAI.L'S REPULSE—ROMAX (?) AQUEDUCT IX THE VAL TOURNANCHE—ASCENDTHE CIMES BLANCHES—WEDECEIVE A GOAT—WE INVENT A NEW PASS TO ZER­MATT (BREUIIJOCIl)—AQUEOUS AND GLACIER EROSION—GLACIER VERSUS ROCKS—SEILEP.'S DISIXTERESTEDXESS— THE MATTERHORX CLIFFS—EXTRAORDINARY ACCI­DENT TO A CHAMOIS—COL DE VAI.PEI.I.1XE—THE MASTER OF IRERAYEX—ATTEMITTO ASCEND DENTD'ERIN (D'HÉRENS)—THE VA CORNERE PASS—FIRST ASCENT OFTHE GRAXD TOURNAI.IN—SPLENDID VIEW FROM THE SUMMIT—ON PANORAMICVIEWS—GOUFFRE DES DUSSERAILLES—AX ENTERPRISING INNKEEPER , RS-11.1

XVICONTENTS.ADVOCATES PATIENCE—BIVOUAC ON MOST SUC—TUB FIRST ASCENT OF AIO.DE TRÊLATÊTE—TUB MORAINE OF THE MIAGE—OS MORAINES IS GENERAI.—ERRONEOUS VIEWS RESPECTING THEM—OCR FIRST ATTEMPT TO ASCEND AIO.D'ARGENTIÈRE—A CONCEALED CAVERN—SUCCESS AT LAST—MR. REILLY'S MAPPages 176-192CHAPTER XLTHE FIRST PASSAGE OF THE MOMING PASS—ZINAL TO ZERMATT.SWISS MENDICANTS—NIGHT ON THE ARTITETTA ALP — A PERILOUS TATII — ICE-AVALANCIIE—SUMMIT OF THE MOMING PASS—CROZ DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF—THE CLUB-ROOM OF ZERMATT . . . . . . . 193-2031865CHAPTER XII.THE FIRST ASCENT OF THE GRAND CORNIER.ON CHOICE OF ROUTES—REGRETS—ZINAL—ASCENT OF THE GRAND CORNIER—EFFECTSOF SUN AND FROST—GREAT RIDGES SUFFER MOST—POINTS OF DIFFERENCE BE­TWEEN ATMOSPHERIC AXD GLACIER EROSION—ADRICOLLA . . 204-214CHAPTER XIII.THE ASCENT OF THE DENT BLANCHE.LESLIE STEPHEN—KENNEDY'S ASCENT—ON BERGSCHRCND8—UNWELCOME ATTENTIONS—A RACE FOR LIFE—BENIGHTED—A SURPRISE . . . 215-222CHAPTER XIV.LOST ON THE COL D'HERKXS—SEVENTH ATTEMPT TO ASCENDTHE MATTERHORN—THE FIRST ASCENT OF THE GRANDESJOBASSES.A LATE START AND THE RESULT—BEWILDERED—RETURN TO ABRICOLLA—CROSS COLD'HÉREXS TO ZERMATT—ASCEND THF, THÉODULHORN—NEW IDEAS REGARDING THEMATTERHORNDECEPTIVENESS OF THE EAST FACE—STRATIFICATION—DIP OF THEBEDS—TRY ANOTHER ROUTE—"SAUVE QUI PEUT "—BEATEN AGAIN—ASCENT OFTHE GRANDES JURASSES—NARROW ESCAPE FROM AX AVALANCHE . 223-238

CONTENTS.xviiCHAPTER XV.THÈ FIRST FASSAGE OF THE COL DOLENT.CHAPTER XVI.THE FIRST ASCENT OF THE AIGUILLE VERTE.CROZ LEAVES US—CHRISTIAN ALMER—SUNSET OS THE MER DE GLACE—ASCENT OFTHE AIGUILLE—ADVICE TO MOUNTAIN WALKERS—VIEW FROM THE SUMMIT—STORMSCOME OX—A WORTHY PORTER—THE NOBLE ATTITUDE OF CIIAMOUXIX . 247-254CHAPTER XVII.THE FIRST PASSAGE OF THE COL DE TALÈFRE.THE COL DU GÉAXT—THE GLACIER DE TALÈFRE—EASY WAY FROM CIIAMOUXIXTO COURMAYEUR — GL1SSADIXG — PASSES OVER THE MAIN CHAIN OF MONTBLANC . . . . . . . . 255-258CHAPTER XVIII.THE FIRST ASCENT OF THE RUINETTE—THE MATTERHORN.FACILITY WITH WHICH THE RUINETTE CAN BE ASCENDED—NOBLE PANORAMA—OXCONCEALED CREVASSES—GUIDES* OBJECTION TO USE OF THE ROPE—ON THE USEAND ABUSE OF THE ROrE—ALMER DECLINES THE MATTERHORX—ENGAGE THECARRELS—THEIR DEFECTION"—THE ITALIANS STEAL A MARCH—ARRIVAL OF LORDFRANCIS DOUGLAS—MEETIXO WITH CROZ, HUDSON, AXD HADOW. . 259-272CHAPTER XIX.THE FIRST ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN.CONFUSION OF IDEAS—A MIDNIGHT START—SUMMIT OF THE PASS—EXTRAORDINARYICE-WALL—MANNER OF ITS DESCENT—OS ICE-AXES AXD THEIR USE—ON ICE-SLOPES AND THEIR SAFETY—CRAMPONS—ARRIVAL AT CIIAMOUXIX Page» 239-246CHARLES HUDSON'—CAMP ON THE EAST FACE—CROZ RETORTS FAVOURABLY—ASCENTOF THE EASTERN' FACE—CROSS TO THE NORTHERN SIDE—ARRIVAL AT SUMMIT—DISCOMFITURE OF THE ITALIANS—ASTONISHMENT AT BREIL—MARVELLOUS PANO­RAMA . . . . . . . . . 273-283

xviüCONTENTS.CHAPTER XX.THE DESCENT OF THE MATTERHORN.ORDER OF THE DESCENT—A FRIGHTFUL AVALANCHE—IIADOW SLIPS—DEATH OF CROZ,HADOW, HUDSON, AND LORD F. DOUGLAS—TERROR OF THETAUGWALDERS—THEBROKEN ROPE—AX APPARITION—AN IXFAMOPS PROPOSITION—SURPRISED BY NIGHT—SEARCH FOU AND RECOVERY OF THE BODIES—OFFICIAL EXAMINATION—THEEND . . . . . . . . Pages 284-298APPENDIX.A. THE DEATH OF BENNENB. STRUCK BY LIGHTNING UPON THE MATTERHORXC. NOTE OS THE HIGHEST MOUNTAIN IN FRANCE .D. SUBSEQUENT HISTORY OF THE MATTERHORNE. TABLE OF ATTEMPTS TO ASCEND THE MATTERHORNF. TABLE OF ASCENTS OF THE MATTERHORNG. GEOLOGY OF TILE MATTERHORN, BY SIO. F. GIORDANOH. PROFESSOR TYXDALL AXD THE MATTERHORXPAGE30130330430431531Ü323325

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.The Drawings were made on the Wood hyII. J. ROOT, OCSTXVR Ix>i;fi, c. Jonxsos, J. MAHONST, J. W. SORTII, I*. SICKLTOX, W. O. Svrrit,C. J. SIAXIIAKD, and J. WOLF ; and were Engraved by J. W. and EDWARD WnuirEjt.FULL PAGEILLUSTRATIONS." THEY SAW MASSES OF ROCKS, BOULDERS AXD STOXES, BIGAND LITTLE, DART ROUND THE CORNER" .Frontûpkcc.OUTLINES OF THE MATTERHORN FROM THE NORTH-F.AST AXDFROM THE SUMMIT OF THE TIIEODCLF.PASS (TO SHOWRIDGES, AXD POINTS ATTAINED ON THE DIFFERENT ATTEMPTSTo face page 44TO ASCEND THE MOUNTAIN)TnE MATTERHORN, FROM NEAR THE SUMMIT OF THE TIIEODCLF.PASS'THE CHIMNEY*"IN ATTEMPTING TO PASS THE CORNER I SLIPPED AND FELLA CANNONADE ON THE MATTERHORN- (1862) .46767884"THEY SCATTERED IN A PANIC WHENOF MY EXCITED COMRADE"SALUTED BY THE CRIES1079.10.11.12.1.1.THE CRAGS OF THE MATTERHOUX, DURING THE STORM, MID­NIGHT, AUGUST 10, 1R63THE CLUB-ROOM OF ZERMATT IN 1864 .THE MATTERHORN* FROM THE RIFFELBERGSECTIONS OF THE MATTERHORNFOG-BOW, SEEN FROM THE MATTERHORN- OX JULY 14, 1865THE HUT OX THE EASTERN FACE (ZERMATT SIDE) OF THE MAT­TERHORNIDEOLOGICAL SECTION OF THE MATTERHORN .120202227230288309324

XXLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.IN THE TEXT.1. POINT OF ALPENSTOCK . . . .2. BIRMINGHAM PICK-AXF. WITH MOVEABLE HEAD3. RUSSIAN FURNACE4. COOKINO TINS .5. SNOW SPECTACLES6. ARCTIC CAP7. THE COMPLETE DISGUISE .8. BEACHY HEAD .9. THE DEVIL OF NOTRE DAME10. THE CHURCH IN DIFFICULTIES11. AT THE ST. BERNARD12. THE VILLAGE OF IÎIONA13. CROSSINO MONT CENIS14. "GARIBALDI!" . . .15. A BIT OF THE VILLAGE OF ZERMATT .16. BRIANÇOX17. MONT PELVOUX FROM ABOVE LA BESSÉE18. THE GRAND PELVOUX DE VAL LOUISE19. BUTTRESSES OF MONT PELVOUX .20. PORTRAIT OF THE LATE R. J. S. MACDOXALD21. OUTLINE TO SHOW ROUTE UP MONT PELVOUX22. THE BLANKET BAG23. NATURAL PILLAR NEAR MOLINKS24. PORTRAIT OF THE LATE J. J. BENNEN25. PORTRAIT OF JEAN-ANTOINE CARREL .26. THE COL DU LION: LOOKING TOWARDS THE TÈTE DU LION27. DIAGRAM TO SHOW MANNER OF FASTENING TEXT-IOI.ES28. THE AUTHOR'S MOUNTAIN TENT . . . .29. CLIMBING CLAW . . .30. RorE AND RING31. AT BREIL (GIOMEIX)32. THE MATTERHORN' FROM BREIL . . . .33. "BUT WHAT IS THIS?"34. AN ARCH OF THE AQUEDUCT IN THE VAL TOURXAXCHE35. WATER-WORN- ROCKS IS THE GORGE KELOW THE CORNER GLACIER36. STRIATIOXS PRODUCED BY fil.ACIEH-ACTIOX .

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.xxir-AOK37. CHAMOIS IN DIFFICULTIES 10238. "CARREL LOWERED ME DOWN" 10839. PORTRAIT OF THE LATE CANON CARREL OF AOSTA . . . . 10940. PORTRAIT OF MONSIEUR FAVRE 12141. CROSSING THE CHANNEL 12342. PORTRAIT OF THE LATE MICHEL-AUGUSTE CROZ 12543. PLAN TO SHOW ROUTE 12844. THE AIGUILLES D'ARVE, FROM ABOVE THE CHALETS OF RIEC BLANC . 13045. PORTRAIT OF MELCHIOR ANDEREOG 13846. MAP OF THE BRECHE DE LA MEIJE, ETC. 14047. DIAGRAM TO SHOW ANGLE OF SUMMIT OF MEIJE, ETC 14248. THE VALLON DES ETANÇOSS 14349. MAP OF THE CENTRAL DAUPIIINÉ ALPS 14650. THE POINTE DES ECRINS FROM THE COL DU GALIBIER . . . . 15551. OUTLINE TO SHOW ROUTE UP POINTE BES ECRINS 15652. FRAGMENT FROM THE SUMMIT OF THE POINTE DES ECRINS . . . 15953. A NIGHT WITH CROZ 16454. A Sxow COULOIR 16955. PORTRAITS OF MR. REILLY OX A WET DAY 18456. Oun CAMP OX MONT Sue 18557. ICE-AVALAXCIIE OX THE MOMIXG PASS 19858. SUMMIT OF THE MOMIXG PASS 20059. FACsiMttE OF A LETTER FROM CROZ 20860. PART OF THE SOUTHERN RIDGE OF THE GRAND CORNIER . . . 21061. PART OF THE NORTHERN RIDGE OF THE GRAND CORNIER . . .21162. PORTRAIT OF LESLIE STEPHEN 21563. TUE BERGSCHRUXD ON TIIE DENT BLANCHE 21764. PORTRAIT OF T. S. KENNEDY 22265. DIAGRAMS TO SHOW DIP OF STRATA ON TUE MATTERHORN . . . 22966. MY TENT-BEARER—THE HUNCHBACK 23467. THE GRANDES JURASSES AND THE DOIRE TORRENT . . . . 23768. THE SUMMIT OF THE COL DOLENT 24169. Mr ICE-AXE 24370. KEXNEDY ICE-AXE 24471. LESLIE STEPHEN ICE-AXE 24472. CRAMPON- . 2 4 573. PORTRAIT OF CHRISTIAN ALMER 24874. ON THE MER DE GLACE 249il

xxii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.PAGE75. WESTERN SIDE OF THE COL DE TALÈFRE 25576. GLISSADING 25777. THE WROXO WAY TO USE A KOPE OX GLACIER 26378. THE RIGHT WAY TO USE A ROPE OX GLACIER 26479. "CROZ! CROZ!! COME HERE!" 27980. THE SUMMIT OF THE MATTERHORN IN 1865 28181. THE ACTUAL SUMMIT OF THE MATTERHORN 28482. RorE BROKEN ON THE MATTERHORN 28783. DIAGRAM OF FOG-BOW 28984. PORTRAIT OF MONSIEUR ALEX. SEILER 29085. THE MANILLA ROPE BROKEN ON THE MATTERHORN- . . . . 29286. THE -SECOND' ROTE BROKEN ON THE MATTERHORN . . . . 29387. THE ENGLISH CHURCH AT ZERMATT 29488. THE END 29889. THE CHAPEL AT THE SCIIWARZSEE 31090. THE SUMMIT OF THE MATTERHORN IN 1874 (NORTHERN END) . . 3 1 191. "THE THINGS WHICH TUMBLE ABOUT THE EARS OF UNWARY TRAVELLERS" 325MAPS.To U' jtlactxl at the enti of theYIAWHC.1. THE MATTERHORN AND ITS GLACIERS (IN colours).2. THE VALLEY OF ZERMATT; AND THE CENTRAL PENNINE ALPS.The body of the work ha» been printed by Meure. WILLIAH CLUWES ASD SONS ; and the separatePlates have been printed by the AITIIOB.

THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHOBN

BEACHV HEAD.CHAPTER I.ON the 23d of July 1860, I started for my first tour in the Alps.As we steamed out into the Channel, Beachy Head came into view,and recalled a scramble of many years ago. With the impudenceof ignorance, my brother* and I, schoolboys both, had tried to scalethat great chalk cliff. Not the head itself—where sea-birds circle,and where the flints are ranged so orderly in parallel lines—but ata place more to the east, where the pinnacle called the Devil'sChimney had fallen down. Since that time we have been often indangers of different kinds, but never have we more nearly brokenour necks than upon that occasion.In Paris I made two ascents.The first to the seventh floor of* The author of Travels in Alaska.1!

a THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. I.a house in the Quartier Latin—to an artist friend, who was engaged,at the moment of my entry, in combat with a little Jew. Hehurled him with great good-will, and with considerable force, intosome of his crockery, and then recommended me to go up thetowers of Notre Dame. Half-an-hour later I stood on the parapetof the great west front, by the side ofthe leering fiend which for centurieshas looked down upon the great city,and then took rail to Switzerland;saw the sunlight lingering on thegiants of the Oberland; heard theechoes from the cow-horns in theLauterbrunnen valley and the avalanchesrattling off the Jungfrau;and crossed the Gemmi into theValais.THE DEVIL OF NOTRE DAME.I was bound for the valley ofSaas, and my work took me high up the Alps on either side ; farbeyond the limit of trees and the tracks of tourists. The viewfrom the slopes of the Weissmies, on the eastern side of thevalley, 5000 or 6000 feet above the village of Saas, is perhaps thefinest of its kind in the Alps. The full height of the three-peakedMischabel (the highest mountain in Switzerland) is seen at oneglance; 11,000 feet of dense forests, green alps, rocky pinnacles,and glittering glaciers. The peaks seemed to me then to behopelessly inaccessible from this direction.I next descended the valley to the village of Stalden, andwent up the Visp Thai to Zermatt, and stopped there several days.Numerous traces of the formidable earthquake-shocks of five yearsbefore still remained ; particularly at St. Nicholas, where the inhabitantshad been terrified beyond measure at the destruction oftheir churches and houses. At this place, as well as at Visp, alarge part of the population was obliged to live under canvas forseveral months. It is remarkable that there was hardly a life lost

en A p. i. SCR AMPLINO ALONE. 3on this occasion, although there were about fifty shocks, some ofwhich were very severe.At Zermatt I wandered in many directions, but the weatherwas bad, and my work was much retarded. One day, after spendinga long time in attempts to sketch near the Hörnli, and in futileendeavours to seize the forms of the peaks as they for a few secondspeered out from above the dense banks of woolly clouds, I determinednot to return to Zermatt by the usual path, and to cross theGorner glacier to the Eiffel hotel. After a rapid scramble over thepolished rocks and snowbeds which skirt the base of the Théoduleglacier, and wading through some of the streams which flow fromit, at that time much swollen by the late rains, the first difficultywas arrived at, in the shape of a precipice about three hundredfeet high. It seemed that it would be easy enough to cross theglacier if the cliff could be descended ; but higher up, and lowerdown, the ice appeared, to my inexperienced eyes, to be impassablefor a single person. The general contour of the cliff was nearlyperpendicular, but it was a good deal broken up, and there was littledifficulty in descending by zigzagging from one mass to another.At length there was a long slab, nearly smooth, fixed at an angle ofabout forty degrees between two wall-sided pieces of rock. Nothing,except the glacier, could be seen below. It was an awkward place,but I passed it at length by lying across the slab, putting theshoulders stiffly against one side, and the feet against the other,and gradually wriggling down, by first moving the legs and thenthe back. When the bottom of the slab was gained a friendlycrack was seen, into which the point of the baton could be stuck,and I dropped down to the next piece. It took a long time coiningdown that little bit of cliff, and for a few seconds it was satisfactoryto see the ice close at hand. In another moment a second difficultypresented itself. The glacier swept round an angle of thecliff, and as tho ice was not of the nature of treacle or thin putty,it kept away from the little bay, on tho edge of which I stood."We were not widely separated, but the edge of the ice was highern 2

4 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. I.than the opposite edge of rock ; and worse, the rock was coveredwith loose earth and stones which had fallen from above. Allalong the side of tho cliff, as far as could be seen in bothdirections, the ice did not touch it, but there was this marginalcrevasse, seven feet wide, and of unknown depth.All this was seen at a glance, and almost at once I concludedthat I could not jump the crevasse, and began to try along the clifflower down ; but without success, for tho ice rose higher and higher,until at last further progress was stopped by the cliffs becomingporfectly smooth. With an axe it would have been possible to cutup the side of the ice ; without one I saw there was no alternativebut to return and face the jump.Night was approaching, and the solemn stillness of the HighAlps was broken only by the sound of rushing water or of fallingrocks. If the jump should be successful,—well; if not, Ifell into that horrible chasm, to be frozen in, or drowned in thatgurgling, rushing water. Everything depended on that jump.Again I asked myself, " Can it be done ? " It must be. So, findingmy stick was useless, I threw it and the sketch-book to the ice, andfirst retreating as far as possible, ran forward with all my might,took tho leap, barely reached the other side, and fell awkwardlyon my knees.The glacier was crossed without further trouble, but the Riffel,*which was then a very small building, was crammed with tourists,and could not take me in. As the way down was unknown to me,some of the people obligingly suggested getting a man at thechalets, otherwise the path would be certainly lost in the forest.On arriving at the chalets no man could bo found, and the lights* Tho Rifl'cl hotel (the »tarthig-i>nmt for the ascent of Monte Iiosa). a dcservedly]H>puIar inn, leased to Monsieur Seiler, the hotel proprietor of Zermatt, is placed at aheight of 3100 feet aVrove that village (8100 almve the sea), and commands a siijxrlipanoramic view. The house has continually grown, and it can now accommodate alargo number of persons. In 18"!', it was connected hy telegraph with the rest ofSwitzerland.

THE CHURCH IN DIFFICULTIES. Sof Zermatt, shining through the trees, seemed to say, " Nevermind a guide, but come along down, I'll show you the way;" sooff I went through the forest, going straight towards them. Thepath was lost in a moment, and was never recovered. I was trippedup by pine-roots, tumbled over rhododendron bushes, fell overrocks. The night was pitch dark, and after a time the lights ofZermatt became obscure, or went out altogether. By a series ofslides, or falls, or evolutions more or less disagreeable, the descentthrough the forest was at length accomplished ; but torrents offormidable character had still to be passed before one could arriveat Zermatt. I felt my way about for hours, almost hopelessly ; byan exhaustive process at last discovering a bridge, and about midnight,covered with dirt and scratches, re-entered the inn which Ihad quitted in the morning.Others besides tourists get into difficulties. A day or two afterwards,when on the way to my old station,near the Hörnli, I met a stout curé whohad essayed to cross the Théodule pass.His strength or his wind had failed, andhe was being carried down, a helplessbundle and a ridiculous spectacle, on theback of a lanky guide ; while the peasantsstood by, with folded hands, their reverencefor the church almost overcome bytheir sense of the ludicrous.I descended the valley, diverging from the path at Randa tomount the slopes of the Dom,* in order to see the Weisshorn faceto face. The latter mountain is the noblest in Switzerland, andfrom this direction it looks especially magnificent, On its norththere is a large snowy plateau that feeds the glacier of which aportion is seen from Randa, and which on more than one occasionhas destroyed that village. From the direction of the Dom (that* The highest of the Misohabelhorner.

CRAP. i. BIONA. 1answered the summons, and demanded rather sharply what waswanted ; but became pacific—almost good-natured—when a fivefrancpiece was held in her face, and she heard that lodging andsupper were requested in exchange.THE VILLAGE OF BIONA.My directions asserted that a passage existed from Prerayen, atthe head of this valley, to Breil,* in the Val Tournanche, and theold woman, now convinced of my respectability, busied herself tofind a guide. Presently she introduced a native, picturesquelyattired in high-peaked hat, braided jacket, scarlet waistcoat, and* There was not a pass between Prerayen and Breil. See note to p. 105.

8 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. I.indigo pantaloons, who agreed to take me to the village of ValTournanche. We set off early on the next morning, and got to thesummit of the pass without difficulty. It gave me my first experienceof considerable slopes of hard steep snow, and, like all beginners,I endeavoured to prop myself up with my stick, and kept itoittsidi', instead of holding it between myself and the slope, andleaning upon it, as should have been done. The man enlightenedme ; but he had, properly, a very small opinion of his employer,and it is probably on that account that, a few minutes after we hadpassed the summit, he said lie would not go any further and wouldreturn to Bionn. AU argument was useless ; he stood still, and toeverything that was said answered nothing but that he would goback. Being rather nervous about descending some long snowslopes,which still intervened between us and the head of thevalley, I offered more pay, and he went on a little way. Presentlythere were suine cliffs down which we had to scramble. He calledto me to stop, then shouted that he would go back, and beckonedto me to come up. On the contrary, I waited for him to comedown ; but instead of doing so, in a second or two he turned round,clambered deliberately up the cliff, and vanished. I supposed itwas only a ruse to extort offers of more money, and waited for halfan-hour,but he did not appear again. This was rather embarrassing,for he carried off my knapsack. The choice of action laybetween chasing him and going on to Breil, risking the loss of mvknapsack. I chose tho latter course, and got to Breil the sameevening. The lundloid of the inn, suspicions of a person entirelyinnocent of luggage, was doubtful if lie could admit me, andeventually thrust me into a kind of loft, which was alreadyoccupied by guidrs and by hay. In later years we became goodfriends, and lie did not hesitate to give credit and even to advanceconsiderable sums.Jly sketches from Breil were made under difficulties, for mymaterials had been carried off. Nothing better than tine sugarpapercould be obtained, and the pencils seemed to contain more

CHAP. I. A REFRACTORY GUIDE. gsilica than plumbago. However, they were made, and the pass *was again crossed, this time alone. By the following eveningthe old woman of Biona again produced the faithless guide. Theknapsack was recovered after the lapse of several hours, and thenI poured forth all the terms of abuse and reproach of which I wasmaster. The man smiled when called a liar, and shrugged hisshoulders when referred to as a thief, but drew his knife whenspoken of as a pig.CROSSING MONT CENIS.The following night was spent at Courmayeur, and the day afterI crossed the Col Ferret to Orsières, and on the next the TèteNoire to Chamounix. The Emperor Napoleon arrived on the sameday, and access to the Mer de Glace was refused to tourists ; but,by scrambling along the Plan des Aiguilles, I managed to outwitthe guards, and to arrive at the Montanvert as the Imperial party* This pass is called usually the Va Cernere. It is also known as the GraCornère ; which is, I believe, i«itois for Grand Cornier. It is mentioned in the firstvolume of the second series of Peaks, Passes, and Glaciers, and in Chapters V. andXVIII. of this volume.

10 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. I.was leaving : the same afternoon failing to get to the Jardin, butvery nearly succeeding in breaking a leg by dislodging great rockson the moraine of the glacier.From Chamonnix I went to Geneva, and thence by the MontCenis to Turin and to the Vaudois valleys. A long and weary dayhad ended when Paesana was reached. The inn was full, and Iwas tired, and about to go to bed, when some village stragglersentered and began to sing. They sang to Garibaldi ! The tenor,a ragged fellow, whose clothes were not worth a shilling, took the"GARIBALDI !"lead with wonderful expression and feeling. The others kept theirplaces, and sang in admirable time. For hours I sat enchanted ;and, long after I retired, the sound of their melody could beheard, relieved at times by the treble of the girl who belongedto the inn.The next morning I passed the little lakes, which are thesources of the Po, on my way into France. The weather wasstormy, and misinterpreting the patois of some natives—who inreality pointed out the right way—I missed the track, and foundmyself under the cliffs of Monte Viso. A gap that was occasionallyseen, in the ridge connecting it with the mountains tothe east, tempted me up ; and, after a battle with a snow-slope ofexcessive steepness, I reached the summit. The scene was extraordinary,and, in my experience, unique. To the north there was

12 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. I.the walk at half-past five the next morning, and proceeded, understeady rain, through Bourg d'Oysans to Grenoble, arriving at thelatter place soon after seven P.M., having accomplished the entiredistance from Briançon in about eighteen hours of actual walking.This was the end of the Alpine portion of my tour of 1860, onwhich I was introduced to the great peaks, and acquired the passionfor mountain-scrambling, the development of which is described inthe following chapters.A BIT OF THE VILLAGE OF ZERMATT.

BRIANÇON ^ONCHAPTER II.Tili; ASCENT HF MONT PELVOUX. Thus fortune on our first endeavour smiles."VIBGIL.THE district of which Mont Pelvoux and the neighbouring summitsare the culminating points,* is, both historically and topographically,one of the most interesting in the Alps. As the nursery andthe home of the Vaudois, it has claims to permanent attention.The names of Waldo and of Neff will be remembered when men* See the Map in Chap. VIII.

14 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CTIAP. n.more famous in their timo will be forgotten ; and the memory ofthe heroic courage and the simple piety of their disciples willendure as long as history lasts.This district contains the highest summits in France, and someof its finest scenery. It has not perhaps the beauties of Switzerland,but has charms of its own ; its cliffs, its torrents, and itsgorges are unsurpassed ; its deep and savage valleys presentpictures of grandeur, and even sublimity, and it is second to nonein tho boldness of its mountain forms.Tho district includes a mass of valleys which vie with eachother in singularity of character and dissimilarity of climate. Somethe rays of the sun can never reach, they are so deep and narrow.*In others tho very antipodes may be found ; the temperature morelike that of the plains of Italy than of Alpine France. This greatrange of climate has a marked effect on the flora of these valleys.Sterility reigns in some ; stones take the place of trees ; débris andmud replace plants and flowers : in others, in the space of a fewmiles, one passes vines, apple, pear, and cherry trees, the birch,alder, walnut, ash, larch, and pine, alternating with fields of rye,barley, oats, beans, and potatoes.The valleys are for the most part short and erratic. They arenot, apparently, arranged on any definite plan. They are not disposed,as is frequently the case elsewhere, either at right anglesto, or parallel with, the highest summits; but they wander hitherand thither, take one direction for a few miles, then double back,and then perhaps resume their original course. Thus, long perspectivesaro rarely to be seen, and it is difficult to form a generalidea of the disposition of the peaks.The highest summits are arranged almost in a horse-shoe form.The highest of all, which occupies a central position, is the Pointe* The depth of the valleys U so great that the sun not only is not seen for morothan a few hours per day during the greatest portion of the year, but in some places—at Villani d'Arène and at Andrieux for example—it is not teen at all for onehundred days.—Lodouci tte's liantes-Alpi s, p. 590.

CHAP, rr, THE VALLEYS OF DAUPHINÉ. 15des Ecrins ; the second in height, the Meije,* is on the north ; andthe Mont Pelvoux, which gives its name to the entire block, standsalmost detached by itself on the outside.The district is still very imperfectly known ; there are probablymany valleys, and there are certainly many summits which havenever been trodden by the feet of tourists or travellers ; but in 1861it was even less known. Until quite recently there was, practically,no map of it ;t General Bourcet's, which was the best that was published,was completely wrong in its delineation of the mountains,and was frequently incorrect in regard to paths or roads.The mountainous regions of Dauphiné, moreover, are notsupplied, like Switzerland, Tyrol, or even tho Italian valleys, withaccommodation for travellers. The inns, when they exist, are oftenfilthy beyond description ; rest is seldom obtained in their beds, ordecent food found in their kitchens, and there are no local guidesworth having. The tourist is thrown very much on his ownresources, and it is not therefore surprising that these districtsare less visited and less known than the rest of the Alps.Most of the statements current in 1861 respecting these mountainshad been derived from two authors t—M. Elie de Beaumont* Sometimes called tho Aiguille du Midi de la Grave, or the Aiguille do la Medjc.t The maps of the Dauphiné Alps to Ball's Guide to the Western Alps, and toJoanne's Itinéraire du Dauphiné, must be excepted. These mopj are, however, ontoo small a scale for travelling purposes.X " Faits pour servir à l'Histoire des Montagnes de l'Oisans," by Elie do Beaumont,in the Annales des Mines.Norway and its Glaciers ; followed by Excursions in the High Alps of Dauphiné.By J. D. Forbes.The following works also treat more or less of the districts referred to in thischapter :—Outline Sktches in the nigh Alps of Dauphiné, by T. G. Bonney.Histoire des Hautes-Alpes, by J. C. F. Ladoucctte.Itinéraire du Dauphiné, by Adolphe Joanne (2nd part).Tour du Monde, 18G0, edited by Ed. Charton.The Israel of the Alps, by Alexis Muston..1 .Memoir of Felix Neff, by W. S. G illy.Good pictures of Dauphiné scenery are to l>e found in Voyages Pittoresques dans

Iti THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. ciiAr. n.and the late Principal J. D. Forbes. Their works, however, containednumerous errors in regard to the identification of the peaks,and, amongst others, they referred the supremacy to the MontPelvoux, the highest point of which they termed the Pointe desArcines, or des Ecrins. Principal Forbes erroneously identified thehigh peak seen from the valley of St. Christophe, with that seenfrom the valley of the Durance, and spoke of both as the MontPelvoux, and M. de Beaumont committed similar mistakes. Inpoint of fact, at the time when M. de Beaumont and Forbes wrotetheir respective memoirs, the proper relation of the Mont Pelvouxto the neighbouring summits had been determined by the engineersemployed on the survey for the map of France, but their observationswere not then accessible to the public, although they hadevidently been seen by M. de Beaumont. This party of surveyors,led by Captain Durand, made the ascent of Mont Pelvoux from theside of the Val d'Ailefroide—that is, from the direction of ValLouise—in 1828. According to the natives of the Val Louise, theygot to the top of the second peak in height, and remained upon it,lodged in a tent for several days, at a height of 12,904 feet. Theytook numerous porters to carry wood for fires, and erected a largecairn on the summit, which has caused the name of Pic de laPyramide to be given to their summit.In 1848, M. Puiseux made the ascent from the same direction,but his Val Louisan guide stopped short of the summit, and allowedthis courageous astronomer to proceed by himself.*In the middle of August 1860, Messrs. Bonney, Hawkshaw,and Mathews, with Michel Croz of Chamounix, tried to ascend thePelvoux, likewise from the same direction. These gentlemen spentVancicnne France, by Ch. Xodicr, J. Taylor, and A. de Cailleux, and in Ix>rd Monson'sVicies in the Departments of the Isère and the High Alps.* M. Tuiscux took for guide a man named Fierre Borne'oud, of Claux in the ValLouise ; who had accompanied Captain Durand in 1828. In 1861, the expedition ofM. Puiseux was quite forgotten in the Val Louise. I am indebted to M. Puiseux forthe above and other details.

CHAP. ir. a RENO BLE. ITseveral days and nights upon the mountain ; and, encountering badweather, only attained a height of 10,430 feet.M. Jean Reynaud, of whom mention has been made in the precedingchapter, accompanied the party of Mr. Mathews, and hewas of opinion that the attempt had been made too late in thoseason. He said that the weather was usually good enough forhigh mountain ascents only during the last few days of July, andthe first ones of August,* and suggested that we should attempt toascend the mountain in the following year at that time. The propositionwas a tempting one, and Reynaud's cordial and modestmanner made it irresistible, although there seemed small chancethat we should succeed where a party such as that of Mr. Mathewshad been beaten.At the beginning of July 1861, I despatched to Reynaud fromHavre, blankets (which were taxed as " prohibited fabrics "), rope,and other things desirable for the excursion, and set out on thetour of France; but, four weeks later, at Nimes, found myselfcompletely collapsed by the heat, then 94°Faht. in the shade, andtook a night train at once to Grenoble.Grenoble is a town upon which a volume might be written.Its situation is probably the finest of any in France, and tho viewsfrom its high forts are superb. I lost my way in the streets ofthis picturesque and noisome town, and having but a half-honrleft in which to get a dinner and take a place in the diligence, wasnot well pleased to hear that an Englishman wished to see me.It turned out to be my friend Macdonald, who confided to me thathe was going to try to ascend a mountain called Pelvoux in thecourse of ten days. On hearing of my intentions, he agreed tojoin us at La Bessée on the 3rd of August. In a few momentsThis is a common saying in Dauphiné. It means that there is usually lesssnow on the mountains during these days than at any other lime of the year. Thenatives have an almost childish dread of venturing upon snow or glaciers, and hencethe period of minimum snow seems to them to lie the most favourable time forexcursions.C

18 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. II.more I was perched in the banquette en route for Bourg d'Oysans,in a miserable vehicle which took nearly eight hours to accomplishless than 30 miles.At five on a lovely morning I shouldered my knapsack andstarted for Briançon. Gauzy mists clung to the mountains, butmelted away when touched by tho sun, and disappeared by jerks(in the manner of views when focussed in a magic lantern), revealingthe wonderfully bent and folded strata in the limestonecliffs behind the town. Then I entered the Combe de Malvai, andheard thft.Romanche eating its way through that wonderful gorge,and passed on to Le Dauphin, where the first glacier came intoview, tailing over the mountain-side on the right. From this placeuntil the summit of the Col de Lautaret was passed, every gap inthe mountains showed a glittering glacier or a soaring peak ; thefinest view was at La Grave, where the Meije rises by a series oftremendous precipices 8000 feet above tho road.* The finest distantview of the pass is seen after crossing the Col, near Monétier.A mountain, commonly supposed to be Monte Viso, appears at theend of the vista, shooting into the sky;f in the middle distance,but still ten miles off, is Briançon with its interminable forts, andin the foreground, leading down to the Guisane, and rising highup the neighbouring slopes, are fertile fields, studded with villagesand church spires. The next day I walked over from Briançon toLa Bessée, to my worthy friend Jean Reynaud, the surveyor ofroads of his district.All the peaks of Mont Pelvoux are well seen from La Bessée—the highest point, as well as that upon which the engineers erectedtheir cairn. Neither Reynaud nor any one else knew this. Thenatives knew only that the engineers had ascended one peak, andhad seen from that one a still higher point, which they called the» See Chapter VII.t Monto Viso is not seen from the Lautaret Road.' That this is so is seen whenone crosses the Col du Galibier, on tho south side of which pass the Monte Viso isvisible for a short time.

CHAP. II. NATIONAL SENTIMENTS. 1!»Pointe des Arcines or des Ecrins. They could not say whetherthis latter could be seen from La Bessée, nor could they tell thepeak upon which the cairn had been erected. We were under theimpression that the highest point was concealed by the peakswhich we saw, and would be gained by passing over them. Theyknew nothing of the ascent of Monsieur Puiseux, and they con-MONT PELVOUX FROM ABOVE LA BESSÉE.fidently asserted that the highest point of Mont Pelvoux had notbeen attained by any one. It was this point we wished to reach.Nothing prevented our starting at once but the absence of 31acdonaldand the want of a bâton. Reynaud suggested a visit to thepostmaster, who possessed a bâton of local celebrity. Down wewent to the bureau ; but it was closed : we halloed through theslits, but no answer. At last the postmaster was discovered endeavouring(with very fair success) to make himself intoxicated.He was just able to ejaculate, " France ! 'tis the first nation in theworld ! " which is a phrase used by a Frenchman at times whenc2

20 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. IT.a Briton would begin to shout, " We won't go home till morning "—national glory being uppermost in tho thoughts of one, and homoin those of the other. The bâton was produced ; it was a branchof a young oak, about five feet long, gnarled and twisted in severaldirections. " Sir," said the postmaster, as he presented it, " France !'tis tho first—the first nation in tho world, by its "—he stuck." Bâtons ?" I suggested. " Yes, yes, sir ; by its bâtons, by its—its," and here he could not get on at all. As I looked at thisyoung limb, I thought of my own ; but Reynaud, who kneweverything about everybody in the village, said there was not abetter one, so off we went with it, leaving the official staggeringin the road and muttering, " France ! 'tis the first nation in theworld ! "The 3rd of August came, and Macdonald did not appear, so westarted for the Val Louise ; our party consisting of Reynaud, myself,and a porter, Jean Casimir Giraud, nicknamed " little nails,"the shoemaker of the place. An hour and a halfs smart walkingtook us to La Ville de Val Louise, our hearts gladdened by theglorious peaks of Pelvoux shining out without a cloud aroundthem. I renewed acquaintance with the mayor of "La Ville."His aspect was original, and his manners were gracious, but theodour which proceeded from him was dreadful.Reynaud kindly undertook to look after the commissariat, andI found to my annoyance, when we were about to leave, that I hadgiven tacit consent to a small wine-cask being carried with us,which was a great nuisanco from the commencement. It was excessivelyawkward to handle ; one man tried to carry it, and thenanother, and at last it was slung from one of our bâtons, and wascarried by two of us, which gave our party tho appearance of amechanical diagram to illustrate the uses of levers.At " La Ville " the Val Louise splits into two branches —the Vald'Entraigues on the left and the Vallon d'Alefred (or Ailefroide) onthe right ; our route was up the latter, and we moved steadily forwardsto the village of La Pisse, where Pierre Sémiond lived, who

CHAP. II. WE ENGAGE A GUIDE. 21was reputed to know more about the Pelvoux than any other man.He looked an honest fellow, but unfortunately he was ill and couldnot come. He recommended his brother, an aged creature, whosefurrowed and wrinkled face hardly seemed to announce the manwe wanted ; but having no choice, we engaged him and again setforth. Walnut and a great variety of other trees gave shadow toour path and fresh vigour to our limbs ; while below, in a sublimeKD PELVOUX DE VAL LOUISE.gorge, thundered the torrent, whose waters took their rise fromthe snows we hoped to tread on the morrow.The Pelvoux could not be seen at La Ville, owing to a highintervening ridge; we were now moving along the foot of thisto get to the chalets of Alefred, or, as they are sometimes called,Aléfioide, where the mountain actually commences. From thesechalets the subordinate, but more proximate, peaks appear considerablyhigher than the loftier ones behind, and sometimes completelyconceal them. But the whole height of the peak, which in thesevalleys goes under the name of the "Grand Pelvoux," is seenat one glance from its summit to its base, six or seven thousandleet of nearly perpendicular cliffs.The chalets of Alefred are a cluster of miserable wooden huts

22 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. H.at the foot of the Grand Pelvoux, and are close to the junction ofthe streams which descend from tho glacier de Sapenière (or duSelé) on tho left, and the glaciers Blanc and Noir on the right.Wo rested a minute to purchase some butter and milk, and Sémiondpicked up a disreputable-looking lad to assist in carrying, pushing,and otherwise moving the wine-cask.Our route now turned sharply to the left, and all were glad thatthe day was drawing to a close, so that we had the shadows fromtho mountains. A more frightful and desolate valley it is scarcelypossible to imagine ; it contains miles of boulders, débris, stones,sand, and mud ; few trees, and they placed so high as to be almostout of sight ; not a soul inhabits it ; no birds are in the air, no fishin its waters ; the mountain is too steep for the chamois, its slopestoo inhospitable for the marmot, the whole too repulsive for theeagle. Not a living thing did we see in this sterile and savage valleyduring four days, except some few poor goats which had beendriven there against their will.It was a scene in keeping with the diabolical deed perpetratedhere about four hundred years ago—the murder of the Vaudois ofVal Louise, in the cavern which was now in sight, though highabove us. Their story is very sad. Peaceful and industrious, formore than three centuries they had inhabited these retired valleysin tranquil obscurity. The Archbishops of Embrun endeavoured,though with little success, to get them within the pale of theirchurch. Their efforts were aided by others, who commenced byimprisonments and torture,* and at last adopted the method ofburning them by hundreds at the stake, tIn the year 1488, Albert Cattante, Archdeacon of Cremona and* It became a regular business. " We find amongst the current accounts of theBailiff of Embrun this singular article—' Item, for persecuting the Vawlois, eight solsand thirty deniers of gold.''—Muston, vol. i. p. 38.t On the 22d of May 1393, eighty persons of the valleys of Frcissiuièrcs andArgentière, and one hundred and fifty pcrsous of the Val I-ouise, were burnt atKinbruii.—Muston, vol. i. p. 41.

«UP. ii. MASSACRE OF THE VAUDOIS. 23legate of Pope Innocent VIII., would have anticipated the barbaritieswhich at a later date roused the indignation of Milton and thefears of Cromwell ;* but, driven everywhere back by the Waldensesof Piedmont, he left their valleys and crossed the Mont Genèvre toattack the weaker and more thinly populated valleys of the Vaudoisin Dauphiné. At the head of an army which is said to havebeen composed of vagabonds, robbers, and assassins (who had beentempted to his banner by promises of absolution beforehand, ofbeing set free from the obligation of vows which they might havemade, and by the confirmation of property to them which theymight have wrongfully acquired), as well as regular troops, Cattaneopoured down the valley of the Durance. The inhabitants of theVal Louise fled before a host that was ten times their number, andtook up their abode in this cavern, where they had collected provisionssufficient for two years. But intolerance is ever painstaking; their retreat was discovered. Cattaneo had a captain whocombined the resources of a Herod to the cruelty of a Pelissier, and,lowering his men by ropes, fired piles of brushwood at the entranceto the cavern, suffocated the majority, and slew the remainder.The Vaudois were relentlessly exterminated, without distinction ofage or sex. More than three thousand persons, it is said, perishedin this frightful massacre ; the growth of three hundred and fiftyyears was destroyed at one blow, and the valley was completelydepopulated. Louis XII. caused it to be re-peopled, and, afteranother three centuries and a half, behold the result—a race ofmonkeys.!* 8ce Morland's History of the Evangelical Churches of Piedmont, 1658; Cromwell'sActs, 1658; and Burtons Diary, 1828.t The commune of the Val Ixniisc contains at the present time about 3100 inhabitants.This cretin population has been aptly described by M. Elisée Reclus in theTour du Monde, 18G0. He says :—" They attain the highest possible developmentsIheir intelligence in their infancy, and—abundanfly provided with majestic goitres,which are lengthened and swollen by age—are in this respect like to tho ourangoutangs,who have nothing more to acquire after the ngc of three years. At the agoof five years the little crétins have already the placid and mature expression which

24 TUE. ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. H.We rested a little at a small spring, and then hastened onwardstill we nearly arrived at the foot of the Sapenière glacier, whenSémiond said we must turn to the right, up the slopes. This wedid, and clambered for half-an-hour through scattered firs andfallen boulders. Then evening began to close in rapidly, and itwas time to look for a resting-place. There was no difficulty ingetting one, for all around there was a chaotic assemblage ofrocks. We selected tho under side of a boulder which was morethan fifty feet long by twenty high, cleared out the rubbish, andthen collected wood for a fire.I have a pleasant recollection of that camp-fire. The winecaskhad got through all its troubles; it was tapped, and theFrenchmen seemed to derive some consolation from its execrablecontents. Reynaud chanted scraps of French songs, and eachcontributed his share of joke, story, or verse. The weather wasperfect, and our prospects for the morrow were good. My companions'joy culminated when a packet of red fire was thrown intothe flames. It hissed and bubbled for a moment or two, and thenbroke out into a grand flare. The effect of tho momentary lightwas magnificent ; tho mountains all around were illuminated fora second, and then relapsed into their solemn gloom. One byone our party dropped off to sleep, and at last I got into myblanket-bag. It was hardly necessary, for although we were atn height of at least 7000 feet, the minimum temperature wasabove 40' Fahrenheit.We roused at three, and made a start at half-past four.Giraud had been engaged as far as this rock only, but as hewished to go on, we allowed him to accompany us. We mountedthe slopes and quickly got above the trees, then had a coupleof hours' clambering over bits of precipitous rock and banks ofdébris, and, at a quarter to seven, got to a narrow glacier—Closde l'Homme—which streamed out of the plateau on the summit,they ought to keep all their lives. . . . They wear trousers, and coats with tails,and a large black hat."

CHAP, IL FIRST ATTEMPT ON MONT PELVOUX. 23and nearly reached the glacier de Sapenière. We worked as muchas possible to the right, in hopes that we should not have to crossit, but were continually driven back, and at last we found thatover we must go. Old Sémiond had a strong objection to theice, and made explorations on his own account to endeavour toavoid it; but Reynaud and I preferred to cross it, and Giraudstuck to us. It was narrow—in fact, one could throw a stoneacross—and it was easily mounted on the side ; but in the centreswelled into a steep dome, up which we were obliged to cut.Giraud stepped forward and said ho should like to try his hand,and having got hold of the axe, would not give it up ; and here,as well as afterwards when it was necessary to cross the gulliesfilled with hard snow, which abound on the higher part of thomountain, he did all the work, and did it admirably.Old Sémiond of course came after us when we got across. Wethen zigzagged up some snow-slopes, and shortly afterwards commencedto ascend the interminable array of buttresses which arethe great peculiarity of the Pelvoux.* They were very steepin many places, yet on the whole afforded good hold, and noclimbing should be called difficult which does that. Gulliesabounded among them, sometimes of great length and depth.They were frequently rotten, and would have been difficult for asingle man to pass. The uppermost men were continually abusedfor dislodging rocks and for harpooning those below with theirbâtons. However, without these incidents the climbing wouldhave been dull—they helped to break the monotony.We went up chimneys and gullies by tho hour together, andalways seemed to be coming to something, although wo never gotto it. The outline sketch will help to explain the situation. Westood at the foot of a great buttress—perhaps about 200 feet high—and looked up. It did not go to a point as in the diagram,because we could not see the top ; although we felt convinced* "The nucleus of the 'massif is a tine protogine, divided by nearly verticilcr.\c\is."—I)ollfus.A usstl.

2G THE ASCENT OF TnE MATTERHORN. CHAP. II.that behind the fringe of pinnacles we did see there was a top, andthat it was the edge of the plateau we so much desired to attain.Up we mounted, and reached the pinnacles ; but, lo ! another setwas seen,—and another,—and yet more—till at last we reachedthe top, and found it was only a buttress, and thatwo must descend 40 or 50 feet'before we couldcommence to mount again. When thisoperation had been performed a fewdozentimes, it began to be wearisome,especially as wo were inthe dark as to onr whereabouts.Sémiond, however,encouraged us,and said he knew weBUTTRESSES OF MONT PELVOUX.were on the right route,—so away we went once more.It was now nearly mid-day, and we seemed no nearer the summitof the Pelvoux than when we started. At last we all joinedtogether and held a council. " Sémiond, old friend, do you knowwhere we are now ? " " Oh yes, perfectly, to a yard and a half."" Well, then, how much are we below this plateau ?" He affirmedwe were not half-an-hour from the edge of the snow. " Very good ;let us proceed." Half-an-hour passed, and then another, but wewere still in the same state,—pinnacles, buttresses, and gullies werein profusion, but the plateau was not in sight. So we called himagain—for he had been staring about latterly, as if in doubt—andrepeated the question. " How far below are we now? " Well, hothought it might be half an-hour more. " But you said that justnow; are you sure we are going right?" Yes, he believed wewere.. Believed ! that would not do. " Are you sure we are goingright for the Pic des Archies ? " " Pic des Arcines ! " he ejaculatedin astonishment, as if he had heard the words for the firsttime. "Pic des Arcines; no! but for the pyramid, the celebratedpyramid he had helped the great Capitaine Durand," cVc.Here was a fix ;—we had been talking about it to him for a

CHAP. II. A CHASE. 27whole day, and now he confessed he knew nothing about it. Iturned to Reynaud, who seemed thunderstruck. " What did hosuggest ? " He shrugged his shoulders. " Well," we said, afterexplaining our minds pretty freely to Sémiond, "the soonerwe turn back the better, for we have no wish to see yourpyramid."We halted for an hour, and then commenced the descent. Ittook us nearly seven hours to come down to our rock ; but I paidno heed to the distance, and do not remember anything about it.When we got down we made a discovery which affected us as muchas the footprint in the sand did Robinson Crusoe : a blue silk veillay by our fireside. There was but one explanation,—Macdonaldhad arrived ; but where was he ? We soon packed our baggage,and tramped in the dusk, through the stony desert, to Alefred,where we arrived about half-past nine. " Where is the Englishman? " was the first question. He was gone to sleep at LaVille.We passed that night in a hay-loft, and in the morning, aftersettling with Sémiond, posted down to catch Macdonald. We hadalready determined on the plan of operation, which was to get himto join us, return, and be independent of all guides, simply takingthe best man we could get as a porter. I set my heart on Giraud,—a good fellow, with no pretence, although in every respect upto the work. We were disappointed ; he was obliged to go toBriançon.The walk soon became exciting. The natives inquired theresult of our expedition, and common civility obliged us to stop.But I was afraid of losing my man, for it was said he would waitonly till ten o'clock, and that time was near at hand. At last Idashed over the bridge,—time from Alefred an hour and a quarter.A cantonnier stopped me, saying that the Englishman had juststarted for La Bessée. I rushed after him, turned angle afterangle of the road, but could not see him ; at last, as I came rounda corner, ho was also just turning another, going very fast. I

28 TUE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. II.shouted, and luckily ho heard me. We returned, reprovisionedourselves at La Ville, and tho same evening saw us passing ourfirst rock, en route for another. I have said we determined to takeno guide ; but, on passing La Pisse, old Sémiond turned out andoffered his services. He went well, in spite of his years and disregardof truth. " Why not take him ? " said my friend. So weoffered him a fifth of his previous pay, and in a few seconds heclosed with the offer. This time he came in an inferior position,—we were to lead, he to follow. Our second follower was a youthof twenty-seven years, who was not all that could be desired. Hedrank Raynaud's wine, smoked our cigars, and quietly secretedtho provisions when we were nearly starving. Discovery of hisproceedings did not at all disconcert him, and he finished up bygetting several items added to our bill at La Ville, which, not alittle to his disgust, we disallowed.This night we fixed our camp high above the tree-line, andindulged ourselves in the healthy employment of carrying our fuelup to it. The present rock was not so comfortable as the first, and,before wo could settle down, wo were obliged to turn out a largemass which was in the way. It was very obstinate, but moved atlength ; slowly and gently at first, then faster and faster, at lasttaking great jumps in the air, striking a stream of fire at everytouch, which shone out brightly as it entered the gloomy valleybelow, and long after it was out of sight, we heard it boundingdownwards, and then settle with a subdued crash on the glacierbeneath. As we turned back from this curious sight, Reynaudasked if we had ever seen a torrent on fire, and told us that in thespring the Durance, swollen by the melting of the snow, sometimesbrings down so many rocks that, where it passes througha narrow gorge at La Bessée, no water whatever is seen, butonly boulders rolling over and over, grinding each other intopowder, and striking so many sparks that the stream looks asif it were on fire.We had another merry evening with nothing to mar it ; the

CHAI». lì. A STONE AVALANCHE. 29weather was perfect, and we lay backward in luxurious repose,looking at the sky spangled with its ten thousand brilliant lights."The ranges stoodTransfigured in the silver flood,Their snows were flashing cold and keen,Dead white, save where some sharp ravineTook shallow, or the sombre greenOf hemlocks turned to pitchy black,Against the whiteness at their back."*Macdonald related his experiencesover the café noir. He had travelledday and night for several days in orderto join us, but had failed to find ourfirst bivouac, and had camped a fewhundred yards from us under anotherrock, higher up the mountain. The nextmorning he discerned us going along aridge at a great height above him, andas it was useless to endeavour to overtakeus, he lay down and watched with a heavy heart until we hadturned the corner of a buttress, and vanished out of sight.Nothing but the heavy breathing of our already sound asleepcomrades broke the solemn stillness of the night. It was a silenceto be felt. Nothing ? Hark ! what is that dull booming soundabove us ? Is that nothing ? There it is again, plainer—on itcomes, nearer, clearer ; 'tis a crag escaped from the heights above !What a fearful crash ! We jump to our feet. Down it comes withawful fury; what power can withstand its violence? Dancing,leaping, flying ; dashing against others ; roaring as it descends.Ah, it has passed ! No ; there it is again, and we hold our breath,as, with resistless force and explosions like artillery, it darts past,with an avalanche of shattered fragments trailing in its rear ! 'Tis* J. G. Whittier, " Snow-Bound."

30 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. II.gone, and we breathe more freely as we hear the finale on thoglacier below.*We retired at last, but I was too excited to sleep. At a quarterpastfour every man once more shouldered his pack and started.This time we agreed to keep more to the right, to see if it were notpossible to get to the plateau without losing any time by crossingtho glacier. To describe our route would be to repeat what has beensaid before. We mounted steadily for an hour and a half, sometimeswalking, though more frequently climbing, and then found, after all,that it was necessary to cross the glacier. The part on which wostruck caino down a very steep slope, and was much crevassed.The word crevassed hardly expresses its appearance—it was a massof formidable séracs. We found, however, more difficulty in gettingon than across it ; and, thanks to the rope, it was passed in safety.Then the interminable buttresses began again. Hour after hour weproceeded upwards, frequently at fault, and obliged to descend. Thoridge behind us had sunk long ago, and we looked over it, and allothers, till our eyes rested on the majestic Viso. Hour after hourpassed, and monotony was the order of the day. When twelveo'clock came we lunched, and contemplated the scene with satisfaction; all the summits in sight, with the single exception of theViso, had given in, and we looked over an immense expanse—aperfect sea of peaks and snow-fields. Still the pinnacles rose aboveus, and opinions were freely uttered that we should see no summitof Pelvoux that day. Old Sémiond had become a perfect bore toall ; whenever one rested for a moment to look about, he wouldsay, with a complacent chuckle, "Don't be afraid, follow me." Wecame at last to a very bad piece, rotten and steep, and no hold.Here Reynaud and Macdonald confessed to being tired, and talkedof going to sleep. A way was discovered out of the difficulty ;then some one called out, " Look at the Viso !" and we saw that wo* M. Puiseux, on his expedition of 1848, was surprised, when at breakfast onthe side of the mountain, by a mass of rock of more than a cubic yard falling like abomb at his tide, which threw up splinters in all directions.

CHAP. ir. THE PIC DES ARCINES. 31almost looked over it. We worked away with redoubled energy,and at length caught sight of the head of the glacier as it streamedout of the plateau. This gave us fresh hopes ; we were not deceived; and with a simultaneous shout we greeted the appearanceof our long-wished-for snows. A large crevasse separated us fromthem; but a bridge was found; we tied ourselves in line, andmoved safely over it. Directly we got across, there rose before usMONT PELVOUXI " >PtC DC LA PVRAMIOCHM3HE8T POINT . I2.02013.073a fine snow-capped peak. Old Sémiond cried, " The pyramid !I see the pyramid ! " " Where, Sémiond, where ? " " There ; onthe top of that peak."There, sure enough, was the cairn he had helped to erect morethan thirty years before. Where was the Pic des Arcines which wowere to see ? It was nowhere visible—there was only a greatexpanse of snow, bordered by three lower peaks. Somewhat sadlywe moved towards the pyramid, sighing that there was no other toconquer ; but hardly had we gone two hundred paces, before thererose a superb white cone on the left, which had been hidden beforeby a slope of snow. We shouted, " The Pic des Arcines ! " and

32 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. ir.inquired of Sémiond if he knew whether that peak had beenascended. As for him, he knew nothing, except that the peakbefore us was called the pyramid, from the cairn he had, etc.etc., and that it had not been ascended since. " All right then—face about," and we immediately turned at right angles for the cone,the porter making faint struggles for his beloved pyramid. Ourprogress was stopped, in the sixth of a mile, by the edge of theridge connecting tho two peaks, and we perceived that it curledover in a lovely volute. Wo involuntarily retreated. Sémiond,who was last in the line, took the opportunity to untie himself, andrefused to come on ; said we were running dangerous risks, andtalked vaguely of crevasses. We tied him up again, and proceeded.Tho snow was very soft ; we were always knee-deep, and sometimesfloundered in up to the waist ; but a simultaneous jerk before andbehind always released one. By this time we had arrived at thefoot of the final peak. Tho left-hand ridge seemed easier than thatupon which we stood, so we curved round to get to it. Some rockspeeped out 150 feet below the summit, and up these we crawled,leaving our porter behind, as he said he was afraid. I could notresist the temptation, as wo went off, to turn round and beckon himonwards, saying, "Don't be afraid—follow me," but he did notanswer to the appeal, and never went to the top. The rocks led toa short ridge of ice—our plateau on one side, and a nearly verticalprecipice on tho other. Macdonald cut up it, and at a quarterto two we stood shaking hands on the loftiest summit of theconquered Pelvoux.The day still continued everything that could be desired, and,far and near, countless peaks burst into sight, without a cloud tohide them. The mighty Mont Blanc, full seventy miles away, firstcaught our eyes, and then, still farther off, the Monte Rosa group ;while, rolling away to the east, one unknown range after anothersucceeded in unveiled splendour ; fainter and fainter in tone, butstill perfectly defined, till at last the eye was unable to distinguishsky from mountain, and they died away in the far-off horizon.

CHAP, IL VIEW FROM MONT PELVOUX. 33Monte Viso rose up grandly, but it was less than forty miles away,and we looked over it to a hazy mass we knew must be the plainsof Piedmont. Southwards a blue mist seemed to indicate theexistence of the distant Mediterranean ; to the west we looked overto the mountains of Auvergne. Such was the panorama ; a viewextending in nearly every direction for more than one hundredmiles. It was with some difficulty we wrenched our eyes fromthe more distant objects to contemplate the nearer ones. MontDauphin was very conspicuous, but La Bessée was not readilyperceived. Besides these places not a habitation could be seen ;all was rock, snow, or ice ; and, large as we knew were the snowfieldsof Dauphiné, we were surprised to find that they very farsurpassed our most ardent imagination. Nearly in a line betweenus and the Viso, immediately to the south of Chateau Qneyras, wasa splendid group of mountains of great height. More to the southan unknown peak seemed still higher; while close to us wo wereastonished to discover that there was a mountain which appearedeven higher than that on which we stood. At least this was myopinion; Macdonald thought that it was not so high, and Reynaudthat it was much about the same elevation as our own peak.This mountain was distant a couple of miles or so, and wasseparated from us by a tremendous abyss, the bottom of which wecould not see. On the other side rose this mighty wall-sided peak,too steep for snow, black as night, with sharp ridges and pointedsummit. We were in complete ignorance of its whereabouts, fornone of us had been on the other side. We imagined that LaBerardo was in the abyss at our feet, although it was in realitybeyond tho other mountain.** This mountain is the culminating point of tho group, and is named on theFrench map, Tointe des Ecrins. It is seen from the Val Christophe, and from thatdirection its ridges completely conceal Mont Pelvoux. On the other side—thatis, from the direction of La Bcssce or the Val Louise—the reverse is the case: theIVI vous completely conceals it.Unaware that this name was going to be applied to it, we gave the name Vic. desArcines or des Ecrins to our summit, in accordance with the traditions of the natives.I)

34 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. II.We left tho summit at last, and descended to the rocks and toour porter, where I boiled some water, obtained by melting snow.After we had fed, and smoked our cigars (lighted without difficultyfrom a common match), we found it was ten minutes past three,and high time to be off. We dashed, waded, and tumbled fortwenty-five minutes through the snow, and then began the longdescent of the rocks. It was nearly four o'clock, and, as it wouldbe dark at eight, it was evident that there was no time to be lost,and wo pushed on to the utmost. Nothing remarkable occurredgoing down. 'We kept rather closer to the glacier, and crossed atthe same point as in the morning. Getting off it was like gettingon it—rather awkward. Old Sémiond had got over—so hadReynaud ; Macdonald came next, but, as he made a long stretchto get on to a higher mass, he slipped, and would have been in thebowels of a crevasse in a moment had he not been tied.It was nearly dark by the time we had crossed, yet I still hopedthat we should be able to pass the night at our rock. Macdonaldwas not so sanguine, and he was right ; for at last we found ourselvesquite at fault, and wandered helplessly up and down for anhour, while Reynaud and the porter indulged in a little mutualabuse. Tho dreary fact, that, as we could not get down, we muststay where we were, was now quite apparent.We were at least 10,500 feet high, and if it commenced to rainor snow, as the gathering clouds and rising wind seemed to threaten,we might be in a sore plight. We were hungry, having eatenlittle since 3 A.M., and a torrent we heard close at hand, but couldnot discover, aggravated our thirst. Sémiond endeavoured to getsome water from it. Although he succeeded in doing so, lie waswholly unable to return, and we had to solace him by shouting atintervals through tho night.Amore detestable locality for a night out of doors it is difficultto imagine. There was not shelter of any kind; it was perfectlyexposed to the chilly wind which began to rise, and it was toosteep to promenade. Loose rubbly stones covered the ground, and

cnAP. IL SURPRISED BY NIGHT. 35had to be removed before we could sit with any comfort. Thiswas an advantage, although we hardly thought so at the time, asit gave us some employment, and, after an hour's active exerciseof that interesting kind, I obtained a small strip about nine feetlong, on which it was possible to walk. Reynaud was furious atfirst, and soundly abused the porter, whose opinion as to the routedown had been followed rather than that of our friend, and at lastsettled down to a deep dramatic despair, and wrung his handswith frantic gesture, as he exclaimed, " Oh, malheur, malheur !Oh misérables ! "Thunder commenced to growl, and lightning to play amongthe peaks above, and the wind, which had brought the temperaturedown to nearly freezing-point, began to chill us to the bones. Weexamined our resources. They were six and a half cigars, twoboxes of vesuvians, one-third of a pint of brandy-and-water, andhalf-a-pint of spirits of wine : rather scant fare for three fellowswho had to get through seven hours before daylight. The spiritlampwas lighted, and the remaining spirits of wine, the brandyand some snow, were heated by it. It was a strong liquor, andwe wished for more of it. When it was consumed, Macdonaldendeavoured to dry his socks by the lamp, and then the threelay down under my plaid to pretend to sleep. Reynaud's woeswere aggravated by toothache ; Macdonald somehow managed toclose his eyes.The longest night must end, and ours did at last. We gotdown to our rock in an hour and a quarter, and found the lad nota little surprised at our absence. He said he had made a giganticfire to light ns down, and shouted with all his might ; wo neithersaw the fire nor heard his shouts. He said we looked a ghastlycrew, and no wonder ; it was our fourth night out.We feasted at our cave, and performed some very necessaryablutions. The persons of the natives are infested by certainagile creatures—rapid of motion, numerous, and voracious. It isdangerous to approach too near, and one has to study the wind,i. '2

30 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. rr.so as to get on their weather-side. In spite of all such precautionsmy unfortunate companion and myself were being rapidlydevoured alive. We only expected a temporary lull of our tortures,for the interiors of tho inns are like the exteriors of the natives,swarming with this species of animated creation.It is said that once, when these tormentors were filled with anunanimous desire, an unsuspecting traveller was dragged bodilyfrom his bed ! This needs confirmation. One word more, and Ihave done with this vile subject. We retnrned from our ablutions,and found the Frenchmen engaged in conversation. " Ah ! " saidold Sémiond, " as to fleas, I don't pretend to be different to anyoneelse,—I have them." This time he certainly spoke the truth.We got down to La Ville in good time, and luxuriated therefor several days ; played many games of bowls with the natives,and were invariably beaten by them. At last it was necessary topart, and I walked to Abries, by way of Mont Dauphin and thegorge of the Guil towards Monte Viso, while Macdonald went toBriançon.I have not attempted to conceal that the ascent of MontPelvoux is of a rather monotonous character ; the view from itssummit can, however, be confidently recommended. A glance ata map will show that, with the single exception of the Viso,whose position is unrivalled, it is better situated than any othermountain of considerable height for viewing the whole of theWestern Alps.Our discovery that the peak which is to be called the Pointedes Ecrins was a separate and distinct mountain from Mont Pelvoux—andnot its highest point—gave us satisfaction, although itwas also rather of the nature of a disappointment.On our return to La Bessce we wrongly identified it with thepeak which is seen from thence to the left of the Pelvoux. Thetwo mountains bear a considerable resemblance to each other, sothe mistake is not, perhaps, unpardonable. Although the latter

CHAP. li. "YOU ARE A DESERTER!" 37mountain is one that is considerably higher than the Wetterhornor Monte Viso, it has no name ; we called it the Pic SansNom.It has been observed by others that it is improbable the Frenchsurveyors should have remained for several days upon the Pic dela Pyramide without visiting the other and loftier summit. Ifthey did, it is strange that they did not leave some memorial oftheir visit. The natives who accompanied them asserted that theydid not pass from one to the other ; wo therefore claimed to havemade the ascent of the loftiest point for the first time. Theclaim, however, cannot be sustained, on account of the ascent ofM. Puiseux. It is a matter of little moment ; the excursion hadfor us all the interest of a first ascent; and I look back uponthis, my first serious mountain scramble, with more satisfaction,and with as much pleasure as upon any that is recorded in thisvolume.A few days later, I left Abries to seek a quiet bundle of hay atLe Chalp—a village some miles nearer to the Viso. On approachingthe place, the odour of sanctity became distinctly perceptible ;and on turning a corner the cause was manifested—there wasthe priest of the place, surrounded by some of his flock. I advancedhumbly, hat in hand, but almost before a word could be said, hebroke out with, " Who are you ? " " What are you ? " " What doyou want?" I endeavoured to explain. "You are a deserter ; Iknow you are a deserter ; go away, you can't stay here ; go to LeMonta, down there ; I won't have you here," and he literally droveme away. The explanation of his strange behaviour was, thatPiedmontese soldiers who were tired of the service had notunfrequently crossed the Col de la Traversette into the valley,and trouble had arisen from harbouring them. However, I did notknow this at the time, and was not a little indignant that I, whowas marching to the attack, should be taken for a deserter.So I walked away, and shortly afterwards, as it was getting

38 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. n.dark, encamped in a lovely hole—a cavity or kind of basin in theearth, with a stream on one side, a rock to windward, and somebroken fir branches close at hand. Nothing could be more perfect: rock, hole, wood, and water. After making a roaring fire, Inestled in my blanket bag (an ordinary blanket sewn up doubleround the legs, with a piece of elastic riband round the open end),and slept, but not for long. I was troubled with dreams of theTHE BLANKET BAG.Inquisition ; the tortures were being applied—priests were forcingfleas down my nostrils and into my eyes—and with red-hot pincerswere taking out bits of flesh, and then cutting off my ears andtickling the soles of my feet. This was too much ; I yelled agreat yell and awoke, to find myself covered with innumerablecrawling bodies. They were ants ; I had camped by an ant-hill,and, after making its inhabitants mad with the fire, had coollylain down in their midst.The night was fine, and as I settled down in more comfortablequarters, a brilliant meteor sailed across full o'O" of the cloudless

CTIAP. IL DEFEATED. :i'.ìsky, leaving a trail of light behind which lasted for several seconds.It was the herald of a splendid spectacle. Stars fell by hundreds ;and not dimmed by intervening vapours, they sparkled with greaterbrightness than Sirius in our damp climate.The next morning, after walking up the valley to examine theViso, I returned to Abries, and engaged a man from a neighbouringhamlet, an inveterate smoker, and thirsty in proportion, whosepipe never left his mouth except to allow him to drink. Wereturned up the valley together, and slept in a hut of a shepherd,whose yearly wage was almost as small as that of the herdsmanspoken of in Hyperion by Longfellow ; and the next morning, inhis company, proceeded to the summit of the pass which I hadcrossed in 1860. We were baffled in our attempt to get closerto the mountain. A deep notch * with precipitous cliffs cut us offfrom it. The snow-slope, too, which existed in the precedingyear on the Piedmontese side of the pass, was now wanting, andwe were unable to descend the rocks which lay beneath. A fortnightafterwards the mountain was ascended for the first time byMessrs. Mathews and Jacomb, with the two Croz's of Chamounix.Their attempt was made from the southern side, and the ascent,which was formerly considered a thing totally impossible, hasbecome one of the most common and favourite excursions of thedistrict.The night of the 14th of August found me at St. Verau, avillage made famous by Neff, but in no other respect remarkable,saving that it is one of the highest in Europe. The poor inn gavethe impression of great poverty. There was no meat, no bread,* There arc three cols or passes close to Monte Viso on its northern side, whichlead from the valley of the To into that of the Guil. The deep notch spoken of aboveis the ncaicst to the mountain, and although it is by far the lowest gap in that l*rtof the chain, and would seem to be the true Col Viso, it does not appear to be usedas a pass. The second, which I crossed in I860, has the name Col del Color delTorco given to it upon tho Sardinian map ! The third is the Col de la Traversi tte ;and this, although higher than at least one of those mentioned above, is that whichis used by the natives who pass from one valley to the other.

CHAP, IL HARD FARE. 41wishes to hunt the chamois, as the ground over which they wanderis by no means of excessive difficulty.The next day I descended tho valley to Ville Vieille, and passednear the village of Molines, but on the opposite side of the valley, aremarkable natural pillar, in form not unlike a champagne bottle,about sixty feet high, which had been produced by the action ofthe weather, and, in all probability, chiefly by rain. These naturalpillars are among the most remarkable examples of the potenteffects produced by the long-continued action of quiet-workingforces. They are found in several other places in the Alps, aswell as elsewhere.The village of Ville Vieille boasts of an inn with the sign of theElephant ; which, in the opinion of local amateurs, is a proof thatHannibal passed through the gorge of the Guil. I remember thoplace, because its bread, being only a month old, was unusuallysoft, and, for the first time during ten days, it was possible to eatsome, without first of all chopping it into small pieces and soakingit in hot water, which produced a slimy paste on the outside, butleft a hard untouched kernel.The same day I crossed the Col Isoard to Briançon. It was the15th of August, and all the world was en fete; sounds of revelryproceeded from the houses of Servières as I passed over the bridgeupon which the pyrrhic dance is annually performed,* and nativesin all degrees of inebriation staggered about the paths. It was latebefore the lights of the great fortress came into sight; but unchallengedI passed through the gates, and once more sought shelterunder the roof of the Hotel de l'Ours.* Sit I-adoueettc's Hautes-Alp s, p. óyó".

CHAPTER III.MY FIRST SCRAMBLE ON THE MATTEKIIOKX." Wluit power must have been required to shatter and to sweep away themissing parts of this pyramid ; for wo do not see it surrounded by heaps of fragments; one only sec* other peaks—themselves rooted to the ground—whose sides,equally rent, indicate au immense mass of debris, of which we do not see any tracein the neighbourhood. Doubtless this is that debris which, in the form of pebbles,boulders, and sand, covers our valleys and our plains."DE SAUSSURE.Two summits amongst those in the Alps which yet remainedvirgin had especially excited my admiration. One of these hadbeen attacked numberless times by the best mountaineers withoutsuccess; the other, surrounded by traditional inaccessibility, wasalmost untouched. These mountains were the Weisshorn andthe Matterhorn.After visiting the great tunnel of the Alps in 18G1,1 wanderedfor ten days in the neighbouring valleys, intending, presently, toattempt the ascent of these two peaks. Rumours were floatingabout that the former had been conquered, and that the latter wasshortly to be attacked, and they were confirmed on arrival atChatillon, at tho entrance of the Val Tournanche. My interestin the Weisshorn consequently abated, but it was raised to thehighest pitch on hearing that Professor Tyndall was at Breil, andintending to try to crown his first victory by another and stillgreater one.Up to this time my experience with guides had not beenfortunate, and I was inclined, improperly, to rate them at a lowvalue. They represented to me pointers out of paths, and largeconsumers of meat and drink, but little more ; and, with the recollectionof Mont Pelvoux, I should have greatly preferred the

CHAP. III. THE MATTERHORN. 43company of a couple of my countrymen to any number of guides.In answer to inquiries at Chatillon, a series of men came forward,whoso faces expressed malice, pride, envy, hatred, and roguery ofevery description, but who seemed to be destitute of all goodqualities. The arrival of two gentlemen with a guide, who theyrepresented was the embodiment of every virtue, and exactly thoman for the Matterhorn, rendered it unnecessary to engage anyof the others. My new guide in physique was a combination ofChang and Anak ; and although in acquiring him I did not obtainexactly what was wanted, his late employers did exactly what theywanted, for I obtained the responsibility, without knowledge, ofpaying his back fare, which must have been a relief at once totheir minds and to their purses.When walking up towards Breil,* we inquired for another manof all the knowing ones, and they, with one voice, proclaimed thatJean-Antoine Carrel, of the village of Val Tonrnanche, was the cockof his valley. We sought, of course, for Carrel ; and found him awell-made, resolute-looking fellow, with a certain defiant air whichwas rather taking. Yes, he would go. Twenty francs a day, whateverwas the result, was his price. I assented. But I must takehis comrade. "Why so?" Oh, it was absolutely impossible toget along without another man. As he said this, an evil countenancecame forth out of the darkness and proclaimed itself thecomrade. I demurred, tho negotiations broke off, and we went upto Breil. This place will be frequently mentioned in subsequentchapters, and was in full view of the extraordinary peak, the ascentof which we were about to attempt.It is unnecessary to enter into a minute description of theMatterhorn, after all that has been written about that famousmountain. Those by whom this book is likely to be read willknow that that peak is nearly 15,000 feet high, and that it risesabruptly, by a series of cliffs which may properly be termed preci-* Frequently sirlt Brenil.

44 TUE ASCENT OF TUE MATTERHORN. CHAP. HI.pices, a clear 5000 feet above the glaciers which surround its base.They will know too that it was the last great Alpine peak whichremained unsealed,—less on account of the difficulty of doing so,than from the terror inspired by its invincible appearance. Thereseemed to bo a cordon drawn around it, up to which one might go,but no farther. Within that invisible line gins and effreets weresupposed to exist—the Wandering Jew and the spirits of thedamned. The superstitious natives in tho surrounding valleys(many of whom still firmly believe it to be not only the highestmountain in the~AIps, but in the world) spoke of a ruined city onits summit wherein the spirits dwelt ; and if you laughed, theygravely shook their heads ; told you to look yourself to see thecastles and the walls, and warned one against a rash approach, lestthe infuriate demons from their impregnable heights might hurldown vengeance for one's derision. Such were the traditions of thenatives. Stronger minds felt the influence of the wonderful form,and men who ordinarily spoke or wrote like rational beings, whenthey came under its power seemed to quit their senses, and ranted,and rhapsodised, losing for a time all common forms of speech.Even the sober De Saussure was moved to enthusiasm when hesaw the mountain, and—inspired by the spectacle—he anticipatedtho speculations of modern geologists, in the striking sentenceswhich are placed at tho head of this chapter.The Matterhorn looks equally imposing from whatever side itis seen ; it never seems commonplace ; and in this respect, and inregard to tho impression it makes upon spectators, it stands almostalone amongst mountains. It has no rivals in the Alps, and butfew in the world.The seven or eight thousand feet which compose the actualpeak have several well-marked ridges and numerous others.* Themost continuous is that which leads towards the north-east ; thesummit is at its higher, and the little peak, called the Hörnli, is atits lower end. Another one that is well-pronounced descends from* See the Map of the Matterhorn and its Glaciers.

SUMMIT (14780)SOI'TH EAST RIUGEDIRECTION OfTHE Z'Mt'TT GLACIERTHE HORN LI c»agTHE MATTERHORNFROM THE NORTH-EAST.MMMIT (14790)BOVTH-WMJf RITii.ESORTII EAST RIDGESHOULDER (L'KTAULE)COL DU LItiS I «AUTHOR'S FIRST TENTPLATFORMTETE DÜ LIO* :iTYNDALL. AIMMACOONALO & WHYMPER. JULY 3, }8S2THE DENT BLAMIIE*HYMPER. AUG. 30, 1861AUTHOR'S SECOND TENT PLATFORMTHE MATTERHORN FROM THE SUMMIT OF THE THEODULEIO 399 FEETÌPASS.

CHAP. m. RIDGES OF THE MOUNTAIN. Mthe summit to the ridge called the Furgen Grat. The slope of themountain that is between these two ridges will be referred to asthe eastern face. A third, somewhat less continuous than theothers, descends in a south-westerly direction, and the portion ofthe mountain that is seen from Breil is confined to that which iscomprised between this and the second ridge. This section is notcomposed, like that between the first and second ridge, of one grandface ; but it is broken up into a series of huge precipices, spottedwith snow-slopes, and streaked with snow-gullies. The other halfof the mountain, facing the Z'Mutt glacier, is not capable of equallysimple definition. There are precipices, apparent, but not actual ;there are precipices absolutely perpendicular ; there are precipicesoverhanging : there are glaciers, and there are hanging glaciers ;there are glaciers which tumble great séracs over greater cliffs,whose débris, subsequently consolidated, becomes glacier again ;there are ridges split by the frost, and washed by the rain andmelted snow into towers and spires : while, everywhere, there areceaseless sounds of action, telling that the causes are still in operationwhich have been at work since the world began ; reducing themighty mass to atoms, and effecting its degradation.Most tourists obtain their first view of the mountain eitherfrom the valley of Zermatt or from that of Tonrnanche. From theformer direction the base of the mountain is seen at its narrowest,and its ridges and faces seem to be of prodigious steepness. Thetourist toils up the valley, looking frequently for the great sightwhich is to reward his pains, without seeing it (for the mountainis first perceived in that direction about a mile to the north ofZermatt), when, all at once, as he turns a rocky corner of the path,it comes into view; not, however, where it is expected; the facehas to be raised up to look at it ; it seems overhead. Although this isthe impression, the fact is that tho summit of the Matterhorn fromthis point makes an angle with the eye of less than 16°, while theDom, from the same place, makes a larger angle, but is passed byunobserved. So little can dependence be placed on unaided vision.

40 TUE ASCENT OF TUE MATTERHORN. CHAP. HI.The view of tho mountain from Breil, in the Val Tournanche,is not less striking than that on the other side ; but, usually, itmakes less impression, because the spectator grows accustomedto tho sight while coming up or down the valley. From thisdirection the mountain is seen to be broken up into a series ofpyramidal wedge-shaped masses ; on the other side it is remarkablefor the large, unbroken extent of cliffs that it presents, and for thesimplicity of its outline. It was natural to suppose that a waywould more readily be found to the summit on a side thus brokenup than in any other direction. The eastern face, fronting Zermatt,seemed one smooth, inaccessible cliff, from summit to base. Theghastly precipices which face the Z'Mutt glacier forbade anyattemptin that direction. There remained only the side of Val Tournanche ;and it will be found that nearly all the earliest attempts to ascendtho mountain were made upon the southern side.The first efforts to ascend the Matterhorn of which I have heard,were made by the guides, or rather by the chasseurs, of Val Tournanche.*These attempts were made in the years 1858-9, from thedirection of Breil, and the highest point that was attained was perhapsas far as the place which is now called the " Chimney " (cheminée),a height of about 12,050 feet. Those who were concerned in theseexpeditions were Jean-Antoinc Carrel, Jean Jacques Carrel, VictorCarrel, the Abbé Gorret, and Gabriello Maquignaz. I have beenunable to obtain any further details respecting them.The next attempt was a remarkable one ; and of it, too, thereis no published account. It was made by the Messrs. Alfred,Charles, and Sandbach Parker, of Liverpool, in July 18G0. Thesegentlemen, mthout guides, endeavoured to storm the citadel byattacking its eastern face t—that to which reference was just nowmade as a smooth, impracticable cliff. Mr. Sandbach Parker* There were no guides, properly speaking, in this valley at that time, with theexception of one or two Pessions and rclissiers.t This face is that on the right hand of the large engraving opposite p. 40. It isalso represented, more prominently, in the engraving facing p. 227.

CHAP. in. FIRST ATTEMPTS TO ASCEND THE MOUNTAIN. 17informs me that he and his brothers went along the ridge betweenthe Hörnli and the peak until they came to the point where theascending angle is considerably increased. This place is markedon Dufour's map of Switzerland 3298 mètres (10,820 feet). Theywere then obliged to bear a little to the left to get on to the faceof the mountain, and, afterwards, they turned to the right, andascended about 700 feet farther, keeping as nearly as waspracticable to the crest of the ridge, but, occasionally, bearing alittle to the left—that is, more on to the face of the mountain.Tho brothers started from Zermatt, and did not sleep out. Clouds,a high wind, and want of time, were the causes which preventedthese daring gentlemen from going farther. Thus, their highestpoint was under 12,000 feet.The third attempt upon the mountain was made towards thoend of August 18G0, by Mr. Vaughan Hawkins,* from the sideof the Val Tournanche. A vivid account of his expedition hasbeen published by him in Vacation Tourists;^ and it lias beenreferred to several times by Professor Tyndall in the numerouspapers he has contributed to Alpine literature. I will dismissit, therefore, as briefly as possible.Mr. Hawkins had inspected the mountain in 1S59, with theguide J. J. Bonnen, and he had formed the opinion that the southwestridge % would lead to the summit. He engaged J. JacquesCarrel, who was concerned in the first attempts, and, accompaniedby Bennen (and by Professor Tyndall, whom he had invited totake part in the expedition), he started for the gap between thelittle and the groat peak.§* Mr. Hawkins was unaware that any attempts had been made Ivfore his own. andspoke of it as the first.t Macmillan, 1SU1.X This ridge is seen on the left of the large engraving accompanying this chapter ;and if the reader consults this view, tho explanatory outlines, and the maps, he willl>e able to form a fair idea of the points which were attained on this ami nn the subsequentattempts.§ Since this time the snudi peak has received tho name Tète du I.ion. The gapis now called the Col dn I.ion ; the «lacier at its base, the Glacier du I.ion : and thegully which connects the Ol with the glacier, the Couloir du I.ion.

4H THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. ni.Bennen was a guide who was beginning to be talked about.During the chief part of his brief career he was in the serviceof Wellig, the landlord of the inn on the iEggischhorn, and washired out by him to tourists. Although his experience waslimited, he had acquired a good reputation ; and his book ofcertificates, which is lying before me,* shows that he was highlyesteemed by his employers. A good-looking man, with courteous,J. J. BENNEN (1862).gentlemanly manners, skilful and bold, he might, by this time,have taken a front place amongst guides if he had only beenendowed with more prudence. He perished miserably, in thespring of 1864, not far from his home, on a mountain calledthe Haut de Cry, in the Valais.fMr. Hawkins' party, led by Bennen, climbed the rocksabutting against the Couloir du Lion, on its south side, andattained the Col du Lion, although not without difficulty. Theythen followed the south-west ridge, passed the place at which the* By the kindness of its owner, Mr. P. Tuekett. f See Appendix A.

CHAP. m. MR. HAWKINS' ATTEMPT IN 1860. 49earliest explorers had turned back (the Chimney),* and ascendedabout 300 feet more. Mr. Hawkins and J. J. Carrel then stopped,but Bennen and Professor Tyndall mounted a few feet higher.They retreated, however, in less than half-an-hour, finding thatthere was too little time ; and, descending to the Col by the sameroute as they had followed on the ascent, proceeded thence toBreil, down the Couloir instead of by the rocks. The point atwhich Mr. Hawkins stopped is easily identified from his description.Its height is 12,992 feet above the sea. I think thatBennen and Tyndall could not have ascended more than 50 or 60feet beyond this in the few minutes they were absent from theothers, as they were upon one of the most difficult parts of thomountain. This party therefore accomplished an advance of about350 or 400 feet.Mr. Hawkins did not, as far as I know, make another attempt ;and the next was made by the Messrs. Parker, in July 18G1.They again started from Zermatt; followed the route they hadstruck out on the previous year, and got a little higher thanbefore ; but they were defeated by want of time, shortly afterwardsleft Zermatt on account of bad weather, and did not again renewtheir attempts. Mr. Parker says—" In neither case did we go ashigh as we could. At the point where we turned we saw our wayfor a few hundred feet farther ; but, beyond that, the difficultiesseemed to increase." I am informed that both attempts should beconsidered as excursions undertaken with tho view of ascertainingwhether there was any encouragement to make a more deliberateattack on the north-east side.My guide and I arrived at Breil on the 2Sth of August 18G1,and we found that Professor Tyndall had been there a day or twobefore, but had done nothing. I had seen the mountain fromnearly every direction, and it seemed, even to a novice like myself,far too much for a single day. I intended to sleep out upon it, as* A view of this place faces p. "li.E

50 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAr. in.high as possible, and to attempt to reach the summit on thefollowing day. We endeavoured to induce another man toaccompany us, but without success. Matthias zum Taugwaldand other well-known guides were there at the time, but theydeclined to go on any account. A sturdy old fellow—PeterTaugwalder by name—said he would go ! His price ? " Twohundred francs." " What, whether we ascend or not ? " " Yes—nothing less." The end of tho matter was, that all the men whowere more or less capable showed a strong disinclination, or positivelyrefused, tó go (their disinclination being very much in proportionto their capacity), or else asked a prohibitive price. This,it may bo said once for all, was the reason why so many futileattempts were made upon the Matterhorn. One first-rate guideafter another was brought up to the mountain, and patted on theback, but all declined the business. The men who went had noheart in the matter, and took the first opportunity to turn back.*For they were, with the exception of ono man, to whom referencewill be made presently, universally impressed with tho belief thatthe summit was entirely inaccessible.We resolved to go alone, and anticipating a cold bivouac, beggedthe loan of a couple of blankets from the innkeeper. He refusedthem ; giving the curious reason, that we had bought a bottle ofbrandy at Val Tournanche, and had not bought any from him ! Nobrandy, no blankets, appeared to be his rule. We did not requirethem that night, as it was passed in tho highest cow-shed in thevalley, which is about an hour nearer to the mountain than is thehotel. The cowherds, worthy fellows, seldom troubled by tourists,hailed our company with delight, and did their best to make uscomfortable ; brought out their little stores of simple food, and, aswe sat with them round the great copper pot which hung over thefire, bade us in husky voice, but with honest intent, to beware ofthe perils of the haunted cliffs. When night was coming on, wesaw, stealing up the hill-side, the forms of Jean-Antoine Carrel and* The guide Hennen must be excepted.

CHAP. m. JEAN-ANTOINE CARREL. 51the comrade. " Oh ho !" I said, " you have repented ?" " Not atall; you deceive yourself." "Why then have you come here?"" Because we ourselves are going on the mountain to-morrow."" Oh, then it is not necessary to have more than three." " Not forus." I admired their pluck, and had a strong inclination to engagethe pair; but, finally, decided against it. The comrade turned outto be the J. J. Carrel who bad been with Mr. Hawkins, and wasDearly related to the other man.[KAVASTOINH CARREL (1869).Both were bold mountaineers; but Jean-Antoine was incomparablythe better man of the two, and he is the finest rock-climberI have ever seen. He was the only man who j>ersistently refusedto accept defeat, and who continued to believe, in spite of all discouragements,that the great mountain was not inaccessible, andthat it could be ascended from the side of his native valley.The ni.ubt wore away without any excitement, except from thefleas, a party of whom executed a spirited fandango on my cheek,to the sound of music produced on the drum of my car, by one oftheir fellows beating with a wisp of hay. The two Carrels creptE 2

52 THE ASCENT OF TUE MATTERUORN. CHAP. III.noiselessly out before daybreak, and went off. We did not startuntil nearly seven o'clock, and followed them leisurely, leaving allour properties in the cow-shed ; sauntered over the gentian-studdedslopes which intervene between the shed and the Glacier du Lion,left cows and their pastures behind, traversed the stony wastes, andarrived at the ice. Old, hard beds of snow lay on its right bank(our left hand), and wo mounted over them on to the lower portionof tho glacier with case. But, as we ascended, crevasses becamenumerous, and wo were at last brought to a halt by some whichwere of very large dimensions ; and, as our cutting powers werelimited, we sought an easier route, and turned, naturally, to tholower rocks of the Tète du Lion, which overlook tho glacier on itswest. Some good scrambling took us in a short time on to thecrest of the ridge which descends towards the south ; and thence,up to the level of tho Col du Lion, there was a long natural staircase,on which it was seldom necessary to use the hands. Wedubbed the place " The Great Staircase." Then the cliffs of theTète du Lion, which rise above the Couloir, had to be skirted. Thispart varies considerably in different seasons, and in 1861 we foundit difficult ; for the fine steady weather of that year had reduced thesnow-beds abutting against it to a lower level than usual, and therocks which were left exposed at the junction of the snow withthe cliffs, had few ledges or cracks to which we could hold. But byhalf-past ten o'clock AVO stood on the Col, and looked down uponthe magnificent basin out of which the Z'Mutt glacier flows. Wedecided to pass the night upon the Col, for we were charmed withthe capabilities of the place, although it was one where libertiescould not be taken. On one side a sheer wall overhung theTiefenmatten glacier. On the other, steep, glassy slopes of hardsnow descended to the Glacier du Lion, furrowed by water and byfalling stones. On the north there was the great peak of the Matterhorn,*and on the south the clifls of the Tète du Lion. Throw* The engraving i» made after a sketch taken from the rock* of the Matterhornjust nbove the Col.

CHAP. m. MY FIRST CAMP ON THE MOUNTAIN. 53a bottle down to the Tiefenmatten—no sound returns for morethan a dozen seconds.* * * " how fearfulAnd dizzy 'tis, to east one's eyes so low ! "THE COL DU LION: LOOKING '1UWAKUS THE T&TS LU LION.But no harm could come from that side. Neither could it fromthe other. Nor was it likely that it would from the Tète du Lion,for some jutting ledges conveniently overhung our proposed restingplace.Wo waited for a while, basked in the sunshine, and watched

54 .THE ASCENT OF TUE MATTERHORN. CHAP. in.or listened to the Carrels, who were sometimes seen or heard, highabove us, upon the ridge leading towards the summit ; and, leavingat mid-day, we descended to the cow-shed, packed up the tent andother properties, and returned to the Col, although heavily laden,before six o'clock. This tent was constructed on a pattern suggestedby Mr. Francis Galton, and it was not a success. It looked verypretty when set up in London, but it proved thoroughly useless inthe Alps. It was made of light canvas, and opened like a book ;had one end closed permanently and tho other with flaps ; it wassupported by two alpenstocks, and had the canvas sides prolongedso as to turn in underneath. Numerous cords were sewn to thelower edges, to which stones were to be attached ; but the mainfastenings were by a cord which passed underneath the ridge andthrough iron rings screwed into the tops of the alpenstocks, andwere secured by pegs. The wind, which playfully careered aboutthe surrounding cliffs, was driven through our gap with the forceof a blow-pipe ; the flaps of the tent would not keep down, thepegs would not stay in, and it exhibited so marked a desire to goto the top of the Dent Blanche, that we thought it prudent to takeit down and to sit upon it. When night came on we wrapped ourselvesin it, and made our camp as comfortable as the circumstanceswould allow. The silence was impressive. No living thing wasnear our solitary bivouac ; the Carrels had turned back and wereout of hearing ; the stones had ceased to fall, and the tricklingwater to murmur—"The music of whose liquid lipHad l>cen to us companionship,And, in our lonely life, had grownTo have an almost human tone." *It was bitterly cold. Water froze hard in a bottle under my head.Not surprising, as we were actually on snow, and in a positionwhere the slightest wind was at once felt. For a time we dozed,but about midnight there came from high aloft a tremendous* J. G. Whitticr.

CHAP. in. LIGHT AND SHADE. '>•'>explosion, followed by a second of dead quiet. A great mass ofrock had split off, and was descending towards us. My guidestarted up, wrung his hands, and exclaimed, " 0 my God, we arelost ! " We heard it coming, mass after mass pouring over theprecipices, bounding and rebounding from cliff to cliff, and thegreat rocks in advance smiting one another. They seemed to beclose, although they were probably distant, but some small fragments,which dropped upon us at the same time from the ledgesjust above, added to the alarm, and my demoralised companionpassed the remainder of the night in a state of shudder, ejaculating" terrible," and other adjectives.We put ourselves in motion at daybreak, and commenced theascent of the south-west ridge. There was no more sauntering withhands in the pockets ; each step had to bo earned by downrightclimbing. But it was the most pleasant kind of climbing. Therocks were fast and unencumbered with debris; the cracks weregood, although not numerous, and there was nothing to fear exceptfrom one's-self. So we thought, at least, and shouted to awakeechoes from the cliffs. Ah ! there is no response. Not yet ; waita while, everything here is upon a superlative scale ; count a dozen,and then the echoes will return from the walls of the Dent d'Hérens,miles away, in waves of pure and undefiled sound ; soft, musical,and sweet. Halt a moment to regard the view! We overlook thoTête du Lion, and nothing except the Dent d'Hérens, whose summitis still a thousand feet above us, stands in the way. The rangesof the Graiau Alps—an ocean of mountains—are seen at a glance,governed by their three great peaks, the Grivola, Grand Paradis,and Tour de St. Pierre. How soft, and yet how sharp, they lookin the early morning ! The mid-day mists have not begun to rise ;nothing is obscured ; even the pointed Viso, all but a hundredmiles away, is perfectly defined.Turn to the east, and watch the sun's slanting rays comingacross the Monte Posa snow-fields. Look at the shadowed parts,and see how even they—radiant with reflected light—are more

56 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. HI.brilliant than man knows how to depict. See, how—even there—the gentle undulations give shadows within shadows ; and how—yet again—where falling stones or ice have left a track, there areshadows upon shadows, each with a light and a dark side, withinfinite gradations of matchless tenderness. Then, note the sunlightas it steals noiselessly along, and reveals countless unsuspectedforms;—thedelicato ripple-lines which mark the concealed crevasse,and the waves of drifted snow ; producing each minute more lightsand fresh shadows ; sparkling on the edges and glittering on theends of the icicles ; shining on the heights and illuminating thedepths, until all is aglow, and the dazzled eye returns for relief tothe sombre crags.Hardly an hour had passed since we left the Col before wearrived at the " Chimney." It proved to be the counterpart of theplace to which reference has been made at p. 3 ; a smooth, straightslab of rock was fixed, at a considerable angle, between two othersequally smooth.* My companion essayed to go up, and, aftercrumpling his long body into many ridiculous positions, he saidthat he would not, for he could not, do it. With some little troubleI got up it unassisted, and then my guide tied himself on to theend of our rope, and I endeavoured to pull him up. But he wasso awkward that he did little for himself, and so heavy that heproved too much for me, and after several attempts he untied himself,and quietly observed that he should go down. I told him hewas a coward, and he mentioned his opinion of me. I requestedhim to go to Breil, and to say that he had left his " monsieur "on the mountain, and he turned to go ; whereupon I had to eathumble pie and ask him to come back ; for, although it was not verydifficult to go up, and not at all dangerous with a man standingbelow, it was quite another thing to come down, as the lower edgeoverhung in a provoking manner.The day was perfect ; the sun was pouring down grateful* Mr. Hawkins referred to this place as one of excessive difficulty. He. however.found it coated with ice; we found it free from ice.

CHAP. in. A COOL PROCEEDING. 57warmth ; the wind had fallen ; the way seemed clear, no insuperableobstacle was in sight ; yet what could one do alone ? I stoodon the top, chafing under this unexpected contretemps, and remainedfor some time irresoluto ; but as it became apparent thatthe Chimney was swept more frequently than was necessary (itwas a natural channel for falling stones), I turned at last, descendedwith tho assistance of my companion, and returned withhim to Breil, where we arrived about mid-day.The Carrels did not show themselves, but wo were told thatthey had not got to any great height,* and that the "comrade,"who for convenience had taken off his shoes and tied them roundhis waist, had managed to let one of them slip, and had come downwith a piece of cord fastened round his naked foot. Notwithstandingthis, they had boldly glissaded down the Couloir duLion, J. J. Carrel having his shoeless foot tied up in a pockethandkerchief.The Matterhorn was not assailed again in 1801. I left Breilwith the conviction that it was little use for a single tourist toorganise an attack upon it, so great was its influence on tho moralsof the guides, and persuaded that it was desirable at least twoshould go, to back each other when required : and departed withmy guide t over the Col Théodule, longing, more than before, tomake the ascent, and determined to return, if possible with acompanion, to lay siege to the mountain until one or the otherwas vanquished.* I learned afterwards from Jean-Antoine Carrel that they got considerablyhigher than upon their previous attempts, and nÎHiut 2Ô0 or 300 feet higher thanTrofessor Tyndall in 1S00. In 18G2 I saw the initials of J. A. Carrel cut on therocks at the place where he and his comrade had turned back.t This man proved to be Imth willing and useful on lower ground, and voluntarilyaccninjtanied me a considerable distance out of his way, without fee or reward.

CHAPTERIV.RENEWED ATTEMPTS TO ASCEND THE MATTEKHOKN."'Tis a lesson you should heed,Try, try, try again.If at first you don't succeed,T ry» try» try »gai»-Then your courage should appear,For if you will j>ersevereYou will conquer, never feaT.Try, try, try again."HICK sox.THE year 1862 was still young, and the Matterhorn, clad in itswintry garb, bore but little resemblance to the Matterhorn of thesummer, when a new force came to do battle with the mountain,from another direction. Mr. T. S. Kennedy of Leeds conceived theextraordinary idea that the peak might prove less impracticable inJanuary than in June, and arrived at Zermatt in the former monthto put his conception to tho test. With stout Peter Perm andsturdy Peter Taugwalder ho slept in the little chapel at theSchwarzensee, and on the next morning, like the Messrs. Parker,followed the ridge between the peak called Hörnli and the greatmountain. But they found that snow in winter obeyed the ordinarylaws, and that the wind and frost were not less unkind thanin summer. " The wind whirled up tho snow and spicuhe of iceinto our faces like needles, and flat pieces of ice a foot in diameter,carried up from the glacier below, went flying past. Still no oneseemed to like to be the first to give in, till a gust fiercer than usualforced us to shelter for a time behind a rock. Immediately it wastacitly understood that our expedition must now end ; but we

CHAP. IV. BENNEN REFUSES TO START AGAIN. 59determined to leave some memento of our visit, and, after descendinga considerable distance, we found a suitable place with loosestones of which to build a cairn. In half-an-hour a tower six feethigh was erected ; a bottle, with the date, was placed inside, andwe retreated as rapidly as possible." * This cairn was placed at thespot marked upon Dufour's Map of Switzerland 10,820 feet (3298metres), and the highest point attained by Mr. Kennedy was not, Iimagine, more than two or three hundred feet above it.Shortly after this Professor Tyndall gave, in his little tractMountaineering in 1861, an account of the reason why he hadleft Breil, in August 1861, without doing anything.t It seemsthat he sent his guide Bennen to reconnoitre, and that the lattermade the following report to his employer :—" Herr, I haveexamined the mountain carefully, and find it more difficult anddangerous than I had imagined. There is no place upon it wherewe could well pass the night. We might do so on yonder Col uponthe snow, but there we should be almost frozen to death, andtotally unfit for the work of the next day. On the rocks there isno ledge or cranny which could give us proper harbourage ; andstarting from Breuil it is certainly impossible to reach the summitin a single day." " I was entirely taken aback," says Tyndall," by this report. I felt like a man whose grip had given way, andwho was dropping through the air. . . . Bennen was evidentlydead against any attempt upon the mountain. ' We can, at allevents, reach the lower of the two summits,' I remarked. ' Eventhat is difficult,' he replied ; ' but when you have reached it, whatthen ? The peak has neither name nor fame.' " J* Alpine Journal, 1863, p. S2. t See p. 49.% Mountaineering in 1861, pp. 8G-7. Tyndall and Bennen were mistaken insupposing that tho mountain has two summits ; it has only one. They seem to havebeen deceived by the appearance of that part of the south-west ridge which is called'•the shoulder" (1'c'paule), as seen from Breil. Viewed from that place, its southernend has certainly, through foreshortening, the semblance of a peak ; but when oneregards it from tho Col Theodule, or from any place in the same direction, thodelusion is at once apparent.

60 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. iv.I was more surprised than discouraged by this report byBennen. One half of his assertions I knew to be wrong. The Colto which he referred was the Col du Lion, upon which we hadpassed a night less than a week after he had spoken so authoritatively; and I had seen a place not far below the "Chimney,"—a place about 500 feet above the Col—where it seemed possibleto construct a sleeping-place. Bennen's opinions seem to haveundergone.a complete change. In 1860 he is described as havingbeen enthusiastic to make an attempt, and in 1861 he was deadagainst one. Nothing dismayed by this, my friend Mr. ReginaldMacdonald, our companion on the Pelvoux—to whom so much ofour success had been due, agreed to join me in a renewed assaultfrom the south ; and, although we failed to secure Melchior Andereggand some other notable guides, wo obtained two men of repute,namely, Johann zum Taugwald and Johann Kronig, of Zermatt.We met at that place early in July, but stormy weather preventedus even from passing to the other side of the chain for some time.We crossed the Col Théodule on the 5th, in thoroughly unsettledweather—rain was falling in the valleys, and snow upon themountains. Shortly before we gained the summit we were madeextremely uncomfortable by hearing mysterious, rushing sounds,which sometimes seemed as if a sudden gust of wind was sweepingalong tho snow, and, at others, almost like the swishing of a longwhip: yet tho snow exhibited no signs of motion, and the air wasperfectly calm. The dense, black storm-clouds made us momentarilyexpect that our bodies might be used as lightning-conductors, andwe were well satisfied to get under shelter of the inn at Breil,without having submitted to any such experience.** The late Principal Forbes was similarly situated while crossing the same passin 1842. He described the sounds as rustling, fizzing, and hissing. See his Travelsin the Alps of Savoy, second ed., p. 323. Mr. R. Spcnco Watson experienced thosame upon the upper part of tho Alctsch glacier in July 1863, and he spoko of thesounds as singing or hissing. See the Alhenxnm, Sept. 12, 1803. The respectivoparties seem to have !>eon highly electrified on each occasion. Forties says that his

»CHAP. iv. TUE HUNCHBACK OF BREIL. 61We had need of a porter, and, by the advice of our landlord,descended to the chalets of Breil in search of one Luc Meynet. Wefound his house a mean abode, encumbered with cheese-makingapparatus, and tenanted only by some bright-eyed children ; but asthey said that uncle Luc would soon be home, we waited at thedoor of the little chalet and watched for him. At last a speck wasseen coming round the corner of the patch of firs below Breil,and then the children clapped their hands, dropped their toys, andran eagerly forward to meet him. We saw an ungainly, wobblingfigure stoop down and catch up the little ones, kiss them on eachcheek, and put them into the empty panniers on each side of thomule, and then heard it come on carolling, as if this was not a worldof woe : and yet the face of little Luc Meynet, the hunchback ofBreil, bore traces of trouble and sorrow, and there was more than atouch of sadness in his voice when he said that he must look afterhis brother's children. All his difficulties were, however, at lengthovercome, and he agreed to join us to carry the tent.In the past winter I had turned my attention to tents, andthat which wo had brought with us was the result of experimentsto devise one which should be sufficiently portable to be takenover the most difficult ground, and which should combine lightnesswith stability. Its base was just under six feet square, and a crosssectionperpendicular to its length was an equilateral triangle, thesides of which were six feet long. It was intended to accommodatefour persons. It was supported by four ash-poles, six feet and ahalf long, and one inch and a quarter thick, tapering to tho top toan inch and an eighth ; these were shod with iron points. Theorder of proceeding in the construction of the tent was as follows :—Holes were drilled through the poles about five inches from theirtops, for the insertion of two wrought-iron bolts, three inches longfingers " yielded a fizzing sound ; " and Watson says that his " hair stood on end inan uncomfortable but very amusing maimer," and that " the veil on the wide-awakeof one of the party stood upright in the air 1 "

62 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORX.and one quarter of an inch thick. The bolts were then inserted,and the two pairs of poles were set out (andfixed up by cords), to the proper dimensions.The roof was then put on. This was made ofthe rough, unbleached calico called forfar,which can be obtained in six-feet widths,and it was continued round for about twofeet, on each side, on to the floor. Thewidth of the material was the length of the tent, and seams werethus avoided in the roof. The forfar was sewn round each pole ;THE AUTHOR'S MOUNTAIN TENT.particular care being taken to avoid wrinkles, and to get the wholeperfectly taut. The flooring was next put in and sewn down tothe forfar. This was of the ordinary plaid mackintosh, about ninefeet square ; the surplus three feet being continued up the sides to

CHAP. iv. ON TUE BEST FORM OF ALPINE TENT. 63prevent draughts. It is as well to have two feet of this surplus onone side, and only one foot on the other ; the latter amount beingsufficient for the side occupied by the feet. One end was thenpermanently closed by a triangular piece of forfar, which was sewndown to that which was already fixed. The other end was leftopen, and had two triangular flaps that overlapped each other, andwhich were fastened up when we were inside "by pieces of tape.Lastly, the forfar was nailed down to the poles to prevent the tentgetting out of shape. The cord which was used for climbing servedfor the tent ; it was passed over the crossed poles and underneaththe ridge of the roof, and the two ends—one fore and the other, aft—were easily secured to pieces of rock. Such a tent costs aboutfour guineas, and its weight is about twenty-three pounds ; or, ifthe lightest kind of forfar is used, it need not exceed twentypounds. When it was fastened up for transport it presented theappearance shown in the portrait of Meynet at p. 234, and it couldbe unrolled and set up by two persons in three minutes ; a pointof no small importance during extreme weather.This tent is intended, and adapted, for camping out at high altitudes,or in cold climates. It is not pretended that it is perfectlywaterproof, but it can be made so by the addition of mackintosh tothe roof; and this increases the weightby only two and a half pounds.It is then fit for general use.* It may be observed that the patternof this tent is identical in all essential points with that arrived at(after great experience) by Sir Leopold M'Clintock for Arctic work,and frequent use by many persons, under varied conditions, hasshown that the pattern is both practical and substantial.* I have described this tent at length, as frequent application has been made to mefor information on the subject. I would strongly recommend any person who wish« sto have one for long-continued use, to have one made under his own eye, and to beparticularly careful to test the poles. My experience goes to show that poles which(when supported upon their extremities) will bear a dead weight of 100 lbs. suspendedfrom their centres, will stand any wind to which they are likely to be submitted.Ash is, perhaps, the best wood that'can be selected. Tents of this pattern have beenused, amongst others, by Messrs. Freshfielil, Moore, and Tucker, in the Caucasus ;bv the lîev. W. 11. Hawker in Corsica; and by myself in Greenland.

64 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN.Sunday, the 6 th of July, was showery, and snow fell on theMatterhorn, but we started on the following morning with our threemen, and pursued my route of the previous year. I was requestedto direct the way, as none save myself had been on the mountainbefore. I did not distinguish myself upon this occasion, and ledmy companions nearly to the top of the small peak before the mistakewas discovered. The party becoming rebellious, a little explorationwas made towards our right, and we found that we were uponthe top of the cliff overlooking the Col du Lion. The upper part ofthe small peak is of a very different character to the lower part ; therocks are not so firm, and they are usually covered, or intermixed,with snow, and glazed with ice : the angle too is more severe. ,While descending a small snow-slope, to get on to the right track,Kronig slipped on a streak of ice, and went down at a fearful pace.Fortunately he kept on his legs, and, by a great effort, succeeded instopping just before he arrived at some rocks that jutted throughthe snow, which would infallibly have knocked him over. Whenwe rejoined him a few minutes later, we found that he was incapableof standing, much less of moving, with a face corpse-like in hue,and trembling violently. He remained in this condition for morethan an hour, and the day was consequently far advanced before wearrived at our camping-place on the Col. Profiting by the experienceof last year, we did not pitch the tent actually on the snow, butcollected a quantity of débris from the neighbouring ledges, andafter constructing a rough platform of the larger pieces, levelledthe whole with the dirt and mud.Meynet had proved invaluable as a tent-bearer ; for—althoughhis legs were more picturesque than symmetrical, and although heseemed to be built on principle with no two parts alike—his verydeformities proved of service ; and we quickly found he had spiritof no common order, and that few peasants are more agreeablecompanions, or better climbers, than little Luc Meynet, thehunchback of Breil. He now showed himself not less serviceableas a scavenger, and humbly asked for gristly pieces of meat,

CHAP. rv. DENUDATION. 65rejected by the others, or for suspicious eggs ; and seemed to considerit a peculiar favour, if not a treat, to be permitted to drinkthe coffee-grounds. With the greatest contentment he took theworst place at the door of the tent, and did all the dirty workwhich was put upon him by the guides, as gratefully as a dog—who has been well beaten—will receive a stroke.A strong wind sprang up from the east during the night, andin the morning it was blowing almost a hurricane. The tentbehaved nobly, and we remained under its shelter for several hoursafter the sun had risen, uncertain what it was best to do. A lulltempted us to move, but we had scarcely ascended a hundred feetbefore the storm burst upon us with increased fury. Advance orreturn was alike impossible ; the ridge was denuded of its débris ;and we clutched our hardest when we saw stones as big as a man'sfist blown away horizontally into space. We dared not attemptto stand upright, and remained stationary, on all fours, glued, as itwere, to the rocks. It was intensely cold, for the blast had sweptalong the main chain of tho Pennine Alps, and across the greatsnow-fields around Monte Bosa. Our warmth and courage rapidlyevaporated, and at the next lull we -retreated to the tent ; havingto halt several times even in that short distance. Taugwald andKronig then declared that they had had enough, and refused tohave anything more to do with the mountain. Meynet alsoinformed us that he would be required down below for importantcheese-making operations on the following day. It was thereforeneedful to return to Breil, and we arrived there at 2.30 P.M.,extremely chagrined at our complete defeat.Jean-Antoine Carrel, attracted by rumours, had come up to theinn during our absence, and after some negotiations agreed toaccompany us, with one of his friends named Pession, on the firstfine day. We thought ourselves fortunate; for Carrel clearlyconsidered the mountain a kind of preserve, and regarded our lateattempt as an act of poaching. The wind blew itself out duringthe night, and we started again, with these two men and a porter,F

66 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. IV.at 8 A.M. on tho 9 th, with unexceptionable weather. Carrel pleasedus by suggesting that we should camp even higher than before ; andwe accordingly proceeded, without resting at the Col, until weovertopped the Têto du Lion. Near the foot of the " Chimney," alittle below the crest of the ridge, and on its eastern side, we founda protected place ; and by building up from ledge to ledge (underthe direction of our leader, who was a mason by profession), we atlength constructed a platform of sufficient size and of considerablesolidity. Its height was about 12,550 feet above the sea ; and itexists, I believe,at the present time.* We then pushed on, as theday was very fine, and, after a short hour's scramble, got to the footof the Great Tower upon the ridge (that is to say, to Mr. Hawkins'farthest point), and afterwards returned to our bivouac. Weturned out again at 4 A.M., and at 5.15 started upwards once more,with fine weather and the thermometer at 28°. Carrel scrambledup the Chimney, and Macdonald and I after him. Pession's turncame, but when he arrived at the top he looked very ill, declaredhimself to he thoroughly incapable, and said that he must go back.Wo waited some time, but he did not get better, neither could welearn the nature of his illness. Carrel flatly refused to go on withus alone. We were helpless. Macdonald, ever the coolest of thecool, suggested that we should try what we could do without them ;but our better judgment prevailed, and, finally, we returned togetherto Breil. On the next day my friend started for London.Three times I had essayed the ascent of this mountain, and oneach occasion had failed ignominiously. I had not advanced ayard beyond my predecessors. Up to the height of nearly 13,000feet there were no extraordinary difficulties ; the way so far mighteven become " a matter of amusement." Only 1800 feet remained ;but they were as yet untrodden, and might present the most for-* Tho heights given on tho outlines of tho Matterhorn accompanying Chap. IIL,on tho geological section in tho Appendix, and quoted throughout tho book, oro aftertho barometric (mercurial) measurements of Signor F. Giordano in I860 and 1868.I have ventured to differ from him only in regard to tho height of the second tentplatiorm,and have assigned to it a somewhat lower elevation than his estimate.

CHAP. iv. A SCRAMBLE ALONE ON THE MATTERUORN. 67midable obstacles. No man could expect to climb them by himself.A morsel of rock only seven feet high might at any time defeat him,if it were perpendicular. Such a place might be possible to two,or a bagatelle to three men. It was evident that a party shouldconsist of three men at least. But where could the other twomen he obtained? Carrel was the only man who exhibited anyenthusiasm in the matter ; and he, in 1861, had absolutely refusedto go unless the party consisted of at least four persons. Wantof men made the difficulty, not tho mountain.The weather became bad again, so I went to Zermatt on thechance of picking up a man, and remained there during a week ofstorms.* Not one of the better men, however, could be induced tocome, and I returned to Breil on the 17th, hoping to combine theskill of Carrel with the willingness of Meynet on a new attempt,by the same route as before ; for the Hörnli ridge, which I hadexamined in the meantime, seemed to be entirely impracticable.Both men were inclined to go, but their ordinary occupationsprevented them from starting at once.fMy tent had been left rolled up at the second platform, andwhilst waiting for the men it occurred to me that it might havebeen blown away during the late stormy weather ; so I started offon the 18th to see if this were so or not. The way was by thistime familiar, and I mounted rapidly, astonishing the friendlyherdsmen—who nodded recognition as I flitted past them and thecows—for I was alone, because no man was available. But moredeliberation was necessary when the pastures were passed, andclimbing began, for it was needful to mark each step, in case ofmist,or surprise by night. It is one of the few things which can be saidin favour of mountaineering alone (a practice which has little besidesto commend it), that it awakens a man's faculties, and makeshim observe. When one has no arms to help, and no head to guidohim except his own, he must needs take note even of small things,* During this time making the ascent of Monte Rosa.f They were not guides by profession.F 2

68 TUE ASCENT OF TUE MATTERHORN. • CHAP. IV.for he cannot afford to throw away a chance; and so it came topass, upon my solitary scramble, when above the snow-line, andbeyond the ordinary limits of flowering plants, when peering about,noting angles and landmarks, that my eyes fell upon the'tinystraggling plants—oftentimes a single flower on a single stalk—pioneers of vegetation, atoms of life in a world of desolation, whichhad found their way up—who can tell how ?—from far below, andwere obtaining bare sustenance from the scanty soil in protectednooks ; and it gave a new interest to the well-known rocks to seewhat a gallant fight the survivors made (for many must haveperished in the attempt) to ascend the great mountain. TheGentian, as one might have expected, was there ; but it was runclose by Saxifrages, and by Linaria alpina, and was beaten byThlaspi rotundifolium, which latter plant was the highest I wasable to secure, although it too was overtopped by a little whiteflower which I knew not, and was unable to reach.*The tent was safe, although snowed up ; and I turned to con-* Those which I collected were as follow :—Myosotis alpestris, Gm. ; Veronicaalpina, li. ; Linaria alpina, M. ; Gentiana Bavarica, L. ; Thlaspi rotundifolium,Gaud.; Silent acaulis, L. (?); Potentüla sp.; Saxifraga sp.; Saxifraga muscoides,Wulf. I ora indebted for these names to Mr. William Carruthers of the BritishMuseum. These plants ranged from about 10,500 to a little below 13,000 feet, andare the.highest which I have seen anywhere in the Alps. Several times this numberof species might bo collected, I have no doubt, within these limits. I was notendeavouring to make a flora of tho Matterhorn, but to obtain those plants whichattained tho greatest height. Very few lichens are seen on the higher parts of thismountain; their rarity is due, doubtless, to tho constant disintegration of tho rocks,and tho consequent exposure of fresh surfaces. Silène acaulis was the highest plantfound by De Saussure on his travels in the Alps. Ho mentions (§ 2018) that hofound a tuft "near tho place where I slept on my return (from the ascent of MontBlanc), about 1780 toises (11,388 feet) above tho level of the sea."Mr. William Mathews and Mr. Charles Packe, who have botaniscd respectivelyfor many years in tho Alps and Pyrenees, have favoured mo with tho names of thohighest plants that they have obtained upon their excursions. Their lists, althoughnot extensive, aro interesting as showing the extreme limits attained by some of thohardiest of Alpino plants. Those mentioned by Mr. Mathews are—Campanulacenisia (on the Grirola, 12,047 feet) ; Saxifraga Vryoides and Androsace glacialis(on the summits of Mont Emilius, 11,677, and the Kuitor, 11,480); Ranunculus

CHAP. rv. THE PLANTS FOUND HIGHEST IN THE ALPS. 69template the view, which, when seen alone and undisturbed, hadall the strength and charm of complete novelty. The highestpeaks of the Pennine chain were in front—the Breithorn (13,685feet), the Lyskamm (14,889), and Monte Bosa (15,217); then, turningto the right, the entire block of mountains which separated theVal Tournanche from the Val d'Ayas was seen at a glance, withits dominating summit the Grand Tournalin (11,155). Behindwere the ranges dividing the Val d'Ayas from the Valley of Gressoney,backed by higher summits. More still to the right, the eyewandered down the entire length of the Val Tournanche, and thenrested upon the Graian Alps with their innumerable peaks, andnpon the isolated pyramid of Monte Viso (12,643) in the extremedistance. Next, still turning to the right, came the mountainsglacialis, Armeria alpina, and Pyrethrum alpinum (on Monte Viso, from 10,000 to10,5JO feet); Thlaspi rotundifolium and Saxifraga biflora (Monto Viso, about9500 feet); and Campanula rotundifolia (?), Artemisia spicala (Wulf.), AronicumDoronicum, and Petrocallis Pyrenaica (Col do Scylicres, 9247).Mr. Packe obtained, on or close to tho summit of the Pic de Mulhahaccn, SierraNevada, of Granada (11,600 to 11,700 feet), Papaver alpinum (var. Pyrenaicum),Artemisia Nevadensis (used for giving the flavour to the Manzanilla sherry), ViolaNevadentis, Galium Pyrenaicum, Trisetum glaciale, Festuca Clementei, SaxifragaGrccnlandica (var. Mista), Erigeron alpinum (var. glaciale), and Arenaria tetraquetra.On the Picacho do Velcta (11,440 feet), and on the Alcazaba (11,350), the same plantswere obtained, with the exception of the first named. At a height of 11,150 feet onthese mountains he also collected PtUotrichum purpureum, Lepidium stylalum, andBiscutella saxatilis ; and, at 10,000 feet, Alyssum spicatum and Sideritis scordiodes.Mr. Packe mentions the following plants as occurring at 9000 to 10,000 feet in thePyrenees:—Cerastium latifolium, Draba Wahlenbergii, Uutcliinsia alpina, Linariaalpina, Oxyria reniformis, Ranunculus glacialis, Saxifraga nervosa, S. oppositifolia,S. Grœnlandica, Statice Armeria, Veronica alpina.Information on tho botany of the Val Tournanche is contained in the littlo pamphletby tho lato Canon G. Carrel, entitled La Vallèe de Vallornenche en 1867 ; anda list of tho plants which havo hitherto been collected on tho glacier-surrounded ridgo(Furgen Grat) connecting tho Matterhorn with tho Col Thëodule, will bo found inDollfus-Ausset's Matériaux pour Vétude des Glaciers, vol. viii. part first, 1868. In thoJahrbuch for 1873 of tho Swiss Alpino Club it is stated that on an ascent of thoFinstcraarhoro (14,106 feet) tho following were collected within tho last 1000 feet:—Saxifraga bryoides, S. Muscoides, Achillea atrata, and Ranunculus glacialis.

70 TUE ASCENT OF THE MATTERUORN. CHAP. IV.intervening between the Val Tournanche and the Val Barthélémy :Mont Bouss (a round-topped snowy summit, which seems so importantfrom Breil, but which is in reality only a buttress of the highermountain, the Château des Dames), had long ago sunk, and the eyepassed over it, scarcely heeding its existence, to the Becca Salle (or,as it is sometimes called, Bec de Sale),—a miniature Matterhorn—and to other, and more important heights. Then the grand massof the Dent d'Hérens (13,714) stopped the way ; a noble mountain,encrusted on its northern slopes with enormous hanging glaciers,which broke away at mid-day in immense slices, and thundereddown on to the Tiefenmatten glacier ; and lastly, most splendid ofall, came the Dent Blanche (14,318), soaring above the basin ofthe great Z'Muttgletscher. Such a view is hardly to be excelledin the Alps, and this view is very rarely seen, as I saw it, perfectlyunclouded.** I have already had occasion to mention the rapid changes which occur in thoweather at considerable elevations in tho Alps, and shall havo to do so again in subsequentchapters. No one can regret moro than myself the variable weather whichafflicts that othcrwiso delightful chain of mountains, or tho necessity of speakingabout it: its summits appear to enjoy more than their fair share of wind andtempests. Meteorological disturbances, Borne would say, are by no means necessaryaccompaniments of high regions. There aro some happy places which ore said to befavoured with almost perpetual calm. Take the case of the Sierra Nevada of California,for example, which includes numerous summits from 13,000 to 15,000 feet.Mr. Whitney, of San Francisco, says (in his Guide-book to the Yosemite Valley, and theadjacent region), "At high altitudes, all through the mountains, the weather duringtho summer is almost always the finest possible for travelling. There ore occasionalstorms in the high mountains ; but, in ordinary seasons, these are qnite rare, and oneof tho greatest drawbacks to the pleasure of travelling in the Alps, tho uncertainty oftho weather, is hero almost entirely wanting." It is probable that a more thoroughacquaintance with that region will modify this opinion ; for it must be admitted thatit is very difficult to judge of tho state of the atmosphere at great heights from thovalleys, and it often occurs that a terrific storm is raging above when there is a deadcalm below, at a distance perhaps of not more than three or four miles. A case of thiskind is described in Chapter VI., and another may bo mentioned here. At the very timethat I was regarding tho Dent Blanche from a height of 12,550 feet on tho Matterhorn,Mr. T. S. Kennedy was engaged in making the first ascent of tho former mountain.Ilo described his ascent in a very picturesque paper in the Alpine Journal (1863), andI learn from it that ho experienced severe weather. « The wind roared over our ridge,

CHAP. IV. A SOLITARY BIVOUAC. 71Time sped away unregarded, and the little birds which had builttheir nests on the neighbouring cliffs had begun to chirp theirevening hymn before I thought of returning. Half mechanically Iturned to the tent, unrolled it, and set it up ; it contained foodenough for several days, and I resolved to stay over the night. Ihad started from Breil without provisions, or telling Favre—theinnkeeper, who was accustomed to my erratic ways—where I wasgoing. I returned to the view. The sun was setting, and its rosyrays, blending with the snowy blue, had thrown a pale, pure violetfar as the eye could see; the valleys were drowned in purplegloom, whilst the summits shone with unnatural brightness : andas I sat in the door of the tent, and watched the twilight changeto darkness, the earth seemed to become less earthy and almostsublime ; the world seemed dead, and I, its sole inhabitant. By andby, the moon as it rose brought the hills again into sight, and bya judicious repression of detail rendered the view yet more magnificent.Something in the south hung liko a great glow-worm in theair ; it was too large for a star, and too steady for a meteor ; and itwas long before I could realise the incredible fact that it was themoonlight glittering on the great snow-slope on the north side ofMonte Viso, at a distance, as the crow flies, of 98 miles. Shivering,at last I entered the tent and made my coffee. The night waspassed comfortably, and the next morning, tempted by the brilliancyof the weather, I proceeded yet higher in search of anotherplace for a platform.making fearfully wild music among the desolate crags. ... It rendered an ordinaryvoiceinaudible," and "nothing at a distance greater than fifty yards could be seenat all. . . . Thick mists and driving clouds of snow swept over and past us ; " thothermometer fell to 20° Fahr., and his companion's hair became a mass of white icicles.Now, at this time, Mr. Kennedy was distant from me only four and a half miles.With me, and in my immédiate neighbourhood, tho air was perfectly calm, and thotemperature was agreeably warm; even during the night it fell only two or thrcodegrees below freezing-point. During most of the day tho Dent Manche wasperfectly unclouded, though, for a time, light fleecy clouds were hovering about it«upper 2000 feet. Still no one would have supposed from appearances that my friendwas experiencing a storm such as ho has descril>ed.

72 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. IV.Solitary scrambling over a pretty wide area had shown me thata single individual is subjected to many difficulties which do nottrouble a party of two or three men,and that the disadvantages of beingalone are more felt while descendingthan during the ascent. In orderto neutralise these inconveniences, Idevised two little appliances, whichwere now brought into use for thefirst time. One was a claw—a kind of grapnel—about five inches long, made of shear steel,one-fifth of an inch thick. This was of use in difficult places,where there was no hold within arm's length, but wherethere were cracks or ledges some distance higher. Theclaw could be stuck on the end of the alpenstock and dropped intosuch places, or, on extreme occasions, flung up until it attached itselfto something. The edges that laid hold of the rocks were serrated,which tended to make them catch more readily : the other end hada ring to which a rope was fastened. It must not be understoodthat this was employed for hauling one's-self up for any great distance,but that it was used in ascending, at the most, for only a fewyards at a time. In descending, however, it could be prudentlyused for a greater distance at a time, as the claws could be plantedfirmly ; but it was necessary to keep the rope taut, and the pullconstantly in the direction of the length of the implement, otherwiseit had a tendency to slip away. The second device wasmerely a modification of a dodge practised by all climbers. It isfrequently necessary for a single man (or for the last man of a party)during a descent, to make a loop in the end of his rope, to passit over some rocks, and to come down holding the free end. Theloop is then jerked off, and the process may be repeated. But asit sometimes happens that there are no rocks at hand which willallow a loose loop to be used, a slip-knot has to be resorted to, andthe rope is drawn in tightly. Consequently it will occur that it is

CHAP. IV. ON AIDS TO CLIMBERS. 78not possible to jerk the loop off, and the rope has to be cut and leftbehind. To prevent this, I had a wroughtironring (two and a quarter inches in diameterand three-eighths of an inch thick)attached to one end of my rope. A loopcould be made in a moment by passing theother end of the rope through this ring,which of course slipped up and held tightlyas I descended holding the free end. Astrong piece of cord was also attached tothe ring, and, on arriving at the bottom,this was pulled ; the ring slid back again,and the loop was whipped off readily. Bymeans of these two simple appliances I wasable to ascend and descend rocks, whichotherwise would have been completely impassablefor a single person. The combined weight of these twothings amounted to less than half-a-pound.It has been mentioned (p. 55) that the rocks of the south-westridge are by no means difficult for some distance above the Col duLion. This is true of the rocks up to the level of the Chimney, butthey steepen when that is passed, and remaining smooth and withbut few fractures, and still continuing to dip outwards, presentsome steps of a very uncertain kind, particularly when they areglazed with ice. At this point (just above the Chimney) the climberis obliged to follow the southern (or Breil) side of the ridge, but,in a few feet more, one must turn over to the northern (or Z'Mutt)side, where, in most years, nature kindly provides a snow-slope.When this is surmounted, one can again return to the crest oî theridge, and follow it, by easy rocks, to the foot of the Great Tower.This was the highest point attained by Mr. Hawkins in 1860, andit was also our highest on the 9th of July.This Great Tower is one of the most striking features of theridge. It stands out like a turret at the angle of a castle. Behind

74 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. iv.it a battlemented wall leads upwards to the citadel.* Seen fromthe Théodule pass, it looks only an insignificant pinnacle, but asone approaches it (on the ridge) so it seems to rise, and, when oneis at its base, it completely conceals the upper parts of the mountain.I found here a suitable place for the tent ; which, althoughnot so well protected as the second platform, possessed the advantageof being 300 feet higher up; and fascinated by tho wildnessof the cliffs, and enticed by the perfection of the weather, I wenton to see what was behind.The first step-was a difficult one. The ridge became diminishedto the least possible width—it was hard to keep one's balance—andjust where it was narrowest, a more than perpendicular mass barredthe way. Nothing fairly within arm's reach could be laid hold of ;it was necessary to spring up, and then to haul one's-self over thesharp edge by sheer strength. Progression directly upwards wasthen impossible. Enormous and appalling precipices plungeddown to the Tiefenmatten glacier on the left, but round the righthandside it was just possible to go. One hindrance then succeededanother, and much time was consumed in seeking the way. I havea vivid recollection of a gully of more than usual perplexity at theside of the Great Tower, with minute ledges and steep walls ; ofthe ledges dwindling down and at last ceasing ; and of findingmyself, with arms and legs divergent, fixed as if crucified, pressingagainst the rock, and feeling each rise and fall of my chest as Ibreathed ; of screwing my head round to look for hold, and notseeing any, and of jumping sideways on to the other side. 'Tisvain to attempt to describe such places. Whether they are sketchedwith a light hand, or wrought out in laborious detail, one stands anequal chance of being misunderstood. Their enchantment to thoclimber arises from their calls on his faculties, in their demandson his strength, and on overcoming the impediments which theyoppose to his skill. The non-mountaineering reader cannot feelthis, and his interest in descriptions of such places is usually small,* See the engraving " Crags of the Matterheru," facing p. 120.

CHAP. IV. A SHATTERED RIDGE. 75unless he supposes that the situations are perilous. They are notnecessarily perilous, but I think that it is impossible to avoid givingsuch an impression if the difficulties are particularly insisted upon.About this part there was a change in the quality of the rock,and there was a change in the general appearance of the ridge.The rocks (talcose gneiss) below this spot were singularly firm ; itwas rarely necessary to test one's hold ; the way led over the livingrock, and not up rent-off fragments. But here, all was decay andruin. The crest of the ridge was shattered and cleft, and the feetsank in the chips which had drifted down ; while above, hugeblocks, hacked and carved by the hand of time, nodded to the sky,looking like the grave-stones of giants. Out of curiosity I wanderedto a notch in the ridge, between two tottering piles of immensemasses, which seemed to need but a few pounds on one orthe other side to make them fall ; so nicely poised that they wouldliterally have rocked in the wind, for they were put in motion bya touch ; and based on support so frail that I wondered they didnot collapse before my eyes. In the whole range of my Alpineexperience I have seen nothing more striking than this desolate,ruined, and shattered ridge at the back of the Great Tower. Ihave seen stranger shapes,—rocks which mimic the human form,with monstrous leering faces—and isolated pinnacles, sharper andgreater than any here ; but I have never seen exhibited so impressivelythe tremendous effects which may be produced by frost,and by the long-continued action of forces whose individual effectsare barely perceptible.It is needless to say that it is impossible to climb by the crestof the ridge at this part ; still one is compelled to keep near to it,for there is no other way. Generally speaking, the angles on theMatterhorn are too steep to allow the formation of considerablebeds of snow, but here there is a corner which permits it to accumulate,and it is turned to gratefully, for, by its assistance, onecan ascend four times as rapidly as upon the rocks.The Tower was now almost out of sight, and I looked over

76 TUE ASCENT OF TUE MATTERHORN.the central Pennine Alps to the Grand Combin, and to the chain ofMont Blanc. My neighbour, the Dent d'Hérens, still rose aboveme,, al though but slightly, and the height which had been attainedcould be measured by its help. So far, I had no doubts about mycapacity to descend that which had been ascended ; but, in a shorttime, on looking ahead, I saw that the cliffs steepened, and I turnedback (without pushing on to them, and getting into inextricabledifficulties), exulting in the thought that they would be passedwhen we returned together, and that I had, without assistance;got nearly to the-hèight of the Dent d'Hérens, and considerablyhigher than any one had been before.* My exultation was a littlepremature.About 5 P.M. I left the tent again, and thought myself as goodas at Breil. The friendly rope and claw had done good service, andhad smoothened all the difficulties. I lowered myself through theChimney, however, by making a fixture of the rope, which I thencut off, and left behind, as there was enough and to spare.' My axehad proved a great nuisance in coming down, and I left it in thetent. It was not attached to the bâton, but was a separate affair,—an old navy boarding-axe. While cutting up the different snowbedson the ascent, the bâton trailed behind fastened to the rope ;and, when climbing, the axe was carried behind, run through therope tied round my waist, and was sufficiently out of the way.But in descending, when coming down face outwards (as is alwaysbest where it is possible), the head or the handle of the weaponcaught frequently against the rocks, and several times nearly upsetme. So, out of laziness if you will, it was left in the tent. I paiddearly for the imprudence.The Col du Lion was passed, and fifty yards more would haveplaced me on the " Great Staircase," down which one can run. But* A remarkablo streak of snow (marked " cravate " in tho outline of tho Matterhorn,as seen from the Thcodulo) runs across the cliff at this part of tho mountain.My highest point was somewhat higher than tho lowest part of this snow, and wasconsequently about 13,400 feet abovo tho sea.

"THE CHIMNEY. "(ON THE SOUTH-WEST RIDGE OF THE MATTERHORN).

piAp. rv. TUE CAUSE. 77on arriving at an angle of the cliffs of the Tête du Lion, whileskirting the upper edge of the snow which abuts against them, Ifound that the hèat of the two past days had nearly obliterated thesteps which had been cut when coming up. The rocks happenedto be impracticable just at this corner, so nothing could be doneexcept make the steps afresh. The snow was too hard to beat ortread, down, and at the angle it was all but ice. Half-a-dozensteps only were required, and then the ledges could he followedagain. So I held to the rock with my right hand, and proddedat the snow with the point of my stick untij a good step wasmade, and then, leaning round the angle, did the same for theother side. So far well, but in attempting to pass the corner(to the present moment I cannot tell how it happened) I slippedand fell.The slope was steep on which this took place, and was at thetop of a gully that led down through two subordinate buttressestowards the Glacier du Lion—which was just seen, a thousand feetbelow. The gully narrowed and narrowed, until there was a merethread of snow lying between two walls of rock, which came toan abrupt termination at the top of a precipice that intervenedbetween it and the glacier. Imagine a funnel cut in half throughits length, placed at an angle of 45 degrees, with its point belowand its concave side uppermost, and you will have a fair idea ofthe place.The knapsack brought my head down first, and I pitched intosome rocks about a dozen feet below ; they caught something andtumbled me off the edge, head over heels, into the gully; thebâton was dashed from my hands, and I whirled downwards in aseries of bounds, each longer than the last; now over ice, now intorocks; striking my head four or five.times, each time with increasedforce. The last bound sent me spinning through the air,in a leap.of fifty or sixty feet, from one side of the gully to theother, and I struck the rocks, luckily, with the whole of my leftside. They caught my clothes for a moment, and I fell back on to

78 TUE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. IV.the snow with motion arrested. My head fortunately came theright Bide up, and a few frantic catches brought me to a halt, in theneck of the gully, and on the verge of the precipice. - Bâton, hat,and veil skimmed by and disappeared, and the crash of the rocks—which I had started—as they fell on to the glacier, told hownarrow had'been the escape from utter destruction. As itwas, I fell nearly 200 feet in seven or eight bounds. Ten feetmore would have taken me in one gigantic leap of 800 feet onto the glacier below. . . . . .•'•'-The situation..was sufficiently serious. The rocks could not. be left go for a moment, and the blood was spirting out of morethan twenty cuts; •- The most serious ones were in the head, andI vainly tried to close them with one hand, whilst holding onwith the other. It was useless ; the blood jerked out in blindingjets at each pulsation. "At last, in a moment of inspiration, Ikicked out a big lump of snow, and stuck it as a plaster on myhead; The idea was a happy one, and the flow of blood diminished.Then, scrambling up, I got, not a moment too soon, toa place of safety, and fainted away. The sun was Betting whenconsciousness returned, and it was pitch dark before the GreatStaircase was descended ; but, by a combination of luck and care,the whole 4800 feet of descent to Breil was accomplished withouta slip, or once missing the way. I slunk past the cabin of the 'cowherds, who were talking and laughing inside, utterly ashamedof the state to which I had been brought by my imbecility, andentered the inn stealthily, wishing to escape to my room unnoticed.:But Favre met me in the passage, demanded " Who isit ? " screamed with fright when he got a light, and aroused thehousehold. Two dozen heads then held solemn council over mine,with more talk than action. The natives were unanimous in recommendingthat hot wine (syn. vinegar), mixed with salt, shouldbe rubbed into the cuts. I protested, but they insisted. It wasall the doctoring they received. Whether their rapid healing wasto be attributed to that simple remedy, or to a good state of health,

IN ATTEMPTING TO PASS THE CORNER I SLIPPED ANO FELL."

CHAP. IV. THE EFFECT. 78is a question ; they closed up remarkably quickly, and in a fewdays I was able to move again.*It was sufficiently dull during this time. I was chiefly occupiedin meditating on the vanity of human wishes, and in watchingmy clothes being washed in the tub which was turned by thestream in the front of the house ; and I vowed that if an Englishmanshould at any time fall sick in the Val Tournanche, he shouldnot feel so solitary as I did at this dreary time.f* I received much attention from a kind English lady who was staying in theinn.t As it seldom happens that one survives such a fall, it may be interesting torecord what my sensations were during its occurrence. I was perfectly consciousof what was happening, and felt each blow; but, like a patient under chloroform,experienced no pain. Each blow was, naturally, innre severe than that whichpreceded it, and I distinctly remember thinking, "Well, if the next is harder still,that will lie the end!" Like persons who have been rescued from drowning, Iremember that the recollection of a multitude of things rushed through my bead,many of them trivialities or absurdities, which had been forgotten long before; and,nuire remarkable, this bounding through space did not feel disagreeable. But Ithink thai in no very great distance inure, consciousness as well as sensation wouldhave been lost,and upon that I base my belief, improbable as it seems, that death bya fall frinii a great height is as painless an end as can be experienced.The battering was very rough, yet no bones were broken. The most severe cutswere une of four inches long on the top of the head, and another of three inches on

80 THE ASCENT OF THE. MATTERHORN. CHAP. VI.The news of the accident brought Jean-Antoine Carrel up to.Breil, and, along with the haughty chasseur, came one. of hisrelatives, a strong and able young fellow named Cœsar. Withthese two men and Meynet I made another start on the 23rd ofJuly. We got to the tent without any trouble, and on the following.day had ascended beyond the Tower, and were picking our waycautiously over the loose rocks behind (where my traces of theweek before were well apparent) in lovely weather, when one ofthose abominable and almost instantaneous changes occurred, towhich the Matterhorn is so liable on its southern side. Mistswere created out of invisible vapours, and in a few minutes snowfell heavily. We stopped, as this part was of excessive difficulty,and, unwilling to retreat, remained on the spot several hours, inhopes that another change would occur ; but, as it did not, we atlength went down to the base of the Tower, and commenced tomake a third platform, at the height of 12,992 feet above the sea.It still continued to snow, and we took refuge in the tent. Carrelargued that^ the weather had broken up, and that the mountainwould become so glazed with ice as to render any attempt futile ;and I, that the change was only temporary, and that the rockswere too hot to allow ice to form upon them. I wished to stayuntil the weather improved, but my leader would not endure contradiction,grew more positive, and insisted that we must go down.We went down, and when we got below the Col his opinion wasfound to be wrong ; the cloud was confined to the upper 3000 feet,and outside it there was brilliant weather.the right temple : this latter bled frightfully. Thero was a formidable-looking cut,of about the sumo sizo as the last, on tho palm of the left hand, and every limb wasgrazed, or cut, more or less seriously. The tips of the ears were taken off, and a sharprock cut a circular bit out of the side of tho left boot, sock, and ankle, at ono stroke.The loss of blood, although so great, did not seem to be permanently injurious. Theonly serious effect has been the reduction of a naturally retentive memory to a verycommon-place one; and although my recollections of moro distant occurrencesremain unshaken, the events of that particular day would be clean gone but for thefew notes which were written down before the accident.

82 THE ASCENT OF TUE MATTERBORN. CHAP. rv.Meynet was ready and waiting; and he said that the two Carrelshad gone off some time before, and had left word that they intendedmarmot-hunting, as the day was favourable for that sport* Myholiday had nearly expired, and these men clearly could not berelied-upon ; so, as a last resort, I proposed to the hunchback toaccompany me alone, to Bee if we could not get higher than before,though of reaching the summit there was little or no hope. Hedid not hesitate, and in a few hours we stood—for the third timetogether—upon the Col du Lion. It was the first time Meynethad seen the view unclouded. The poor little deformed peasantgazed upon it silently and reverently for a time, and then, unconsciously,fell on one knee in an attitude of adoration, andclasped his hands, exclaiming in ecstasy, " Oh, beautiful mountains!" His actions were as appropriate as his words were natural,and tears bore witness to the reality of his emotion.Our power was too limited to advance the tent, so we slept atthe old station, and starting very early the next morning, passedthe place where we had turned back on the 24th, and, subsequently,my highest point on the 19th. We found the crest of theridge so treacherous that we took to the cliffs on the right, althoughmost unwillingly. Little by little we fought our way up, but atlength we were both spread-eagled on the all but perpendicularface, unable to advance, and barely able to descend. We returnedto the ridge. It was almost equally difficult, and infinitely moreunstable ; and at length, after having pushed our attempts as faras was prudent, I determined to return to Breil, and to have alight -ladder made to assist us to overcome some of the steepestparts.f I expected, too, that by this time Carrel would have hadenough marmot-hunting, and would deign to accompany us again.* An incident like this goes far to make one look favourably upon the règlement*of Chamounix and other places. This could not have occurred at Chamounix, norhere, if there had been a bureau der guides.t This appeared to be the most difficult part of the mountain. One was driven tokeep to the edge of tho ridge,or very near to it ; and at the point where we turned back(which was almost as high as the highest part of the "cravate," and perhaps 100 feet

CHAP. TV. A SUBPRISE. 83; We came down at a great pace, for we were now so familiarwith the mountain, and with each other's wants, that we knewimmediately when to give a helping hand, and when to let alone.The rocks also .were in a better state than I have ever seen them,being almost entirely free from glaze of ice. • Meynet was alwaysmerriest òn thè difficult parts, and, on the most difficult, kept onenunciating the sentiment, " We can only die once," which thoughtseemed to afford him infinite satisfaction. We arrived at the innearly in the evening, and I found my projects summarily andunexpectedly knocked on the head.. Professor Tyndall had arrived while we were absent, and hehad engaged both Cœsar and Jean-Antoine Carrel. Bennen wasalso with him, together with a powerful and active friend, aValaisan guide, named AntonWalter. They had a ladder alreadyprepared, provisions were being collected, and they intended tostart on the following morning (Sunday). This new arrival tookme by surprise. Bennen, it will be remembered, refused pointblankto take Professor Tyndall on the. Matterhorn in 1861. " Hewas dead against any attempt on the mountain," says Tyndall.He was now eager to set out. Professor Tyndall has not explainedin what way this revolution came about in his guide. I wasequally astonished at the faithlessness of Carrel, and attributed itto pique at our having presumed to do without him. It wasuseless to compete with the Professor and his four men, whowere ready to start in a few hours, so I waited to see what wouldcome of their attempt.* ..; . ... .Everything seemed to favour it, and they set out on a finemorning in high spirits, leaving me tormented with envy and alluncharitableness. If they succeeded, they carried off the prize forwhich I had been so long struggling ; and if they failed, there washigher than my scramble on the 19th) there were smooth walls seven or eight feethigh in every direction, which were impassable to a single man, and which could onlybe surmounted by the assistance of ladders, or by using one's comrades as ladders.• See Appendix H.'-_o2

81- THE ASCENT OF TSE MATTERHORN. CHAP. IVino time to make another attempt, for I was due in a "few days'morein London. When this came home clearly to me, I resolved- toleave Breil at once; but, when packing up, found that sòme necessarieshad been left behind in the tent. ' So I went off about middayto recover them ; caught the army of the Professor before itreached the Col, as they were going very slowly ; left them there(stopping to take food), and went on to the tent. I was near to itwhen all at once I heard a noise aloft, and, on looking up, perceiveda stone of at least a foot cube flying straight at my head.' I ducked,and scrambled „under the lee side of à friendly rock, while the stonewent by with a loud buzz.' It was the advanced guard of a perfectstorm of stones,'which descended with infernal clatter down thévery edge of the ridge, leaving a trail of dust behind, with a strongsmell of sulphur, that told who had sent them. The men belowwere on the look-out, hut thé stones' did not come near them, andbreaking away on one side went down to the Glacier du Lion.*I waited at the tent to welcome the Professor, and when hearrived went down to Breil. Early next morning some one ran tome saying that a flag was seen on the summit, of the Matterhorn.It was not so, however, although I saw that they had passed theplace where we had turned back on the 26th. * I had now no doubtof their final success, for they had got beyond the point whichCarrel, not less than myself, had always considered to be the mostquestionable place on the whole mountain. Up to it there was nochoice of route,—I suppose that at nb one point between it and theCol was it possible to diverge a dozen paces to the right or left,•* Professor Tyndall describes this incident in the following words:—"We hadgathered up our traps, and bent to the work before us, when suddenly an explosionoccurred overhead. We looked aloft and saw in mid-air a solid shot from the Matterhorndescribing its proper parabola, and finally splitting into fragments as it smoteone of the rocky towers in front. Down the shattered fragments came like a kind ofspray, slightly wide of us, but still near enough to compel a "sharp look-out Two orthree such explosions occurred, but we chose tho back fin of tho mountain for ourtrack, and from this tho falling stones were speedily deflected right or left."—SaturdayRevietc, Aug. 8,1863. Reprinted in Macmillan's Magazine, April, 1869. '

*tfSry< « • -A CANNONADE ON THE MATTERHORN (1862).

CHAP. iv. PROFESSOR TYNDALL TRIES AGAIN. 85but beyond it it was otherwise, and we had always agreed, in ourdebates, that if it could be passed success was certain. The accompanyingoutline from a sketch taken from the door of the inn atBreil will help to explain. The letter A indicates the position ofthe Great Tower ; c the "cravate" (the strongly-marked streak ofsnow referred to on p. 76, and which we just failed to arrive at onthe 26th) ; B the place where we now saw something that lookedlike a flag. Behind the point B a nearly level ridge leads up to thefoot of the final peak, which will be understood by a reference tothe outline facing p. 44, on which the same letters indicate thosame places. It was just now said, we considered that if the pointC could be passed, success was certain. Tyndall was at B veryearly in the morning, and I did not doubt that ho would reach thosummit, although it yet remained problematical whether he wouldbe able to stand on the very highest point. The summit wasevidently formed of a long ridge, on which there were two pointsnearly equally elevated—so equally that one could not say whichwas the highest—and between the two there seemed to be a deep

86 THE ASCENT OF TUE MATTERnORN. CHAP. IV.notch, marked D on the outlines, which might defeat one af thevery last moment.My knapsack was packed, and I had taken a parting glass ofwine With Favre, who was jubilant at the success which was tomake the fortune of his inn ; but I could not bring myself to leaveuntil thé result was heard, and lingered about, as a foolish loverhovers round the object of his affections, even after he has beencontemptuously rejected. The sun had set before the men weredescried coming over the pastures. There was no spring in theirsteps—they, too, were defeated. The Carrels hid their heads, andthe others said, as men will do when they have been beaten, thatthe mountain was horrible, impossible, and so forth. ProfessorTyndall told me they had arrived within a stone's throw of (hesummit, and admonished me to have nothing more to do with themountain. I understood him to say that he should not try again,and ran down to the village of Val Tournanche, almost inclined tobelieve that the mountain was inaccessible ; leaving the tent, ropes,and other matters in the hands of Favre, to be placed at the disposalof any person who wished to ascend it, more, I am afraid, outof irony than from generosity. There may have been those whobelieved that the Matterhorn could be ascended, but, anyhow, theirfaith did not bring forth works. No one tried again in 1862.Business took me into Dauphiné before returning to London,and a week after Tyndall's defeat I lay one night, after a sultry day,half-asleep, tossing about in one of the abominations which servefor beds in the inn kept by the Deputy-Mayor of La Ville de ValLouise; looking at a strange ruddiness on the ceiling, which Ithought might be some effect of electricity produced by the irritationof the myriads of fleas ; when the great bell of the church,close at hand, pealed out with loud and hurried clangour. I jumpedup, for the voices and movements of the people in the house mademe think of fire. It teas fire ; and I saw from my window, on thoother side of the river, great forked flames shooting high into the

CHAP. IV. WORK/ WORK/ 8Tsky, black dots with long shadows hurrying towards tho place,and the crests of the ridges catching the light and standing outlike spectres. All the world was in motion, for the neighbouringvillages—now aroused—rang out the alarm. I pulled on my shirt,and tore over the bridge. Three large chalets were on fire, andwere surrounded by a mass of people, who were bringing all theirpots and pans, and anything that would hold water. They formedthemselves into several chains, each two deep, leading towards thenearest stream, and passed the water up one side, and the emptyutensils down the other. My old friend the mayor was there, infull force, striking the ground with his stick, and vociferating," Work ! work ! " but the men, with much presence of mind,chiefly ranged themselves on the sides of the empty buckets, andleft the real work to their better halves. Their efforts wereuseless, and the chalets burnt themselves out.The next morning I visited the still smouldering ruins, and sawthe homeless families sitting in a dismal row in front of theircharred property. The people said that one of the houses had beenwell insured, and that its owner had endeavoured to forestall luck.He had arranged the place for a bonfire, set the lower rooms onfire in several places, and had then gone out of the way, leavinghis wife and children in the upper rooms, to be roasted or not asthe case might be. His plans only partially succeeded, and itwas satisfactory to see the scoundrel brought back in the custodyof two stalwart gensdarmes. Three days afterwards I was inLondon.

'* BUT WHAT IS THIS?"CHAPTER V.THE VAL TOURNANCHE—DIRECTPASS FROM BREIL TO ZERMATT(BREUILJOCH)—ZERMATT—FIRST ASCENT OF THE GRAND TOTJRNAI.I-Y" How like a winter hath my absence beenFrom thee, the pleasure of a fleeting year ! "W. SHAKESPEARE.I CROSSED the Channel on the 29th of July 1863, embarrassed bythe possession of two ladders, each twelve feet long, which joinedtogether like those used by firemen, and shut up like parallel rulers.My luggage was highly suggestive of housebreaking, for, besidesthese, there were several coils of rope, and numerous tools of suspiciousappearance, and it was reluctantly admitted into France,but it passed through the custom-house with less trouble than Ianticipated, after a timely expenditure of a few francs.I am not in love with the douane. It is the purgatory of travellers,where uncongenial spirits mingle together for a time, beforethey are separated into rich and poor. The douaniers look upontourists as their natural enemies ; see how eagerly they pounce uponthe portmanteaux ! One of them has discovered something ! Hehas never seen its like before, and he holds it aloft in the face ofits owner, with inquisitorial insolence. "But ichat is this?" The

CHAP. v. MONSIEUR TUE ACROBAT. 89explanation is only half-satisfactory. "But what is this?" says he,laying "hold of a little box. " Powder." " But that it is forbiddento carry of powder on the railway." " Bah! " says another and olderhand, " pass the effects of Monsieur;" and our countryman—whosecheeks had begun to redden under the stares of his fellow-travellers•—is allowed to depart with his half-worn tooth-brush, while thediscomfited douanier gives a mighty shrug at the strange habits ofthose " whose insular position excludes them from the march ofcontinental ideas."My real troubles commenced at Susa. The officials there, morehonest and more obtuse than the Frenchmen, declined at one andthe same time to be bribed, or to pass my baggage until a satisfactoryaccount of it was rendered ; and, as they refused to believethe true explanation, I was puzzled what to say, but was presentlyTelieved from the dilemma by one of the men, who was cleverer4han his fellows, suggesting that I was going to Turin to exhibitin the streets; that I mounted the ladder and balanced myself onthe end of it, then lighted my pipe and put the point of the bâtonin its bowl, and caused the bâton to gyrate around my head. Therope was to keep back the spectators, and an Englishman in mycompany was the agent. " Monsieur is acrobat then ? " " Yes,certainly." " Pass the effects of Monsieur the acrobat ! "These ladders were the source of endless trouble. Let us passover the doubts of the guardians of the Hôtel d'Europe (Trombetta),•whether a person in the possession of such questionable articlesshould be admitted to their very respectable house, and get toChatillon, at the entrance of the Val Tournanche. A mule waschartered to carry them, and, as they were too long to sling acrossits back, they were arranged lengthways, and one end projected overthe animal's head, while the other extended beyond its tail. A mulowhen going up or down hill always moves with a jerky action, andin consequence of this the ladders hit my mule severe blows betweenits ears and in its flanks.The beast, not knowing what strangecreature it had on its back, naturally tossed its head and threw out

90 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERBORN. CHAP. V.its legs, and this, of course, only made the blows that it receivedmore severe. At last it ran away, and would have perished byrolling down a precipice, if the men had not caught hold of its tail.The end of the matter was that a man had to follow the mule,holding the end of the ladders, which obliged him to move his armsup and down incessantly, and to bow to the hind quarters of theanimal in a way that afforded more amusement to his comradesthan it did to him.I was once more en route for the Matterhorn, for I had heard inthe spring of 1863 the càuse of the failure of Professor Tyndall, andlearnt that the case was not so hopeless as it appeared to be at onetime. I found that he arrived as far only as the northern end of"the shoulder." The point at which he says,* they " sat down withbroken hopes, the summit within a stone's throw of us, but stilldefying us," was not the notch or cleft at D (which is literallywithin a stone's throw of the summit), but another and more formidablecleft that intervenes between the northern end of " theshoulder" and the commencement of the final peak. It is markedE on the outline which faces p. 44. Carrel and all the men whohad been with me knew of the existence of this cleft, and of thepinnacle which rose between it and the final peak ; f and we hadfrequently, talked about the best manner of passing the place. Onthis we disagreed, but we were both of opinion that when we gotto " the shoulder," it would be necessary to bear down gradually tothe right or to the left, to avoid coming to thè top of the notch.Tyndall's party, after arriving at " the shoulder," was led by hisguides along the crest of the ridge, and, consequently, when theygot to its northern end, they came to the top of the notch, instead ofthe bottom—to the dismay of all but the Carrels. Dr. Tyndall'swords are, " The ridge was here split by a deep cleft which separatedit from the final precipice, and the case became more hopeless as wecame more near." The Professor adds, " The mountain is 14,800* Saturday Review, August 8,1863.t The pinnacle, in fact, had a name,—' L'ungo Anhé - .'

CHAP. v. EXPLANATION OF TYNDALL'S DEFEAT. 91feet high, and 14,600 feet had been accomplished." Hé greatlydeceived himself; by the barometric measurements of SignorGiordano the notch is no less than 800 feet below the summit. Theguide Walter (Dr. Tyndall says) said it was impossible to proceed,and the Carrels, appealed to for their opinion (this is their ownaccount), gave as an answer, " We are porters ; ask your guides."Bennen, thus left-to himself, "was finally forced to accept defeat."Tyndall had nevertheless accomplished an advance of about 400feet over one of the most difficult parts of the mountain.There are material discrepancies between the published narrativesof Professor Tyndall* and the verbal accounts of the Carrels.The former says the men had to be " urged on," that " they pronouncedflatly against thefinal precipice," " they yielded BO utterly,"and that Bennen said, in answer to a final appeal made to him,"'What could I do, sir? not one of them would accompany me.'It was the accurate truth." Jean-Antoine Carrel says that whenProfessor Tyndall gave the order to turn he would have advancedto examine the route, as he did not think that farther progresswas impossible, but he was stopped by the Professor, and wasnaturally obliged to follow the others.f These disagreements may* Saturday Review, 1863, and Macmillan's Magazine, 1869.t I have entered into this matter because much surprise has been expressed thatCarrel was able to pass this place without any great difficulty in 1865, which turnedback so strong a party in 1862. The cause or Professor Tyndall's defeat was simplythat his second guide (Walter) did not give aid to Bennen when it was required, andthat tho Carrels would not act as guides after having been hired as porters. J.-A. Carrelnot only knew of tho existence of this place before they came to it, but alwaysbelieved in the possibility of passing it, and of ascending the mountain ; and had hebeen leader to the party, I do not doubt that he might have taken Tyndall to thotop. But when appealed to to assist Bennen (a Swiss, and the recognised leader oftho party), was it likely that he (an Italian, u porter), who intended to bo tho firstman up the mountain by a route which ho regarded peculiarly his own, would renderany aid?It is not so easy to understand how Dr. Tyndall and Bennen overlooked thoexistence of this cleft, for it is seen over several points of the compass, and particularlywell from the southern side of tho Thebdule pass. Still moro difficult is it toexplain how the Professor came to consider that he was ouly a stono's-throw from

92 . THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. V.•well be left tò .be settled by those who are concerned. Tyndall,Walter, and Bennen, now disappear from this history.*Thè Val Tournanche is one of the most charming valleys in theItalian Alps; it is a paradise to an artist, and if the space at mycommand were'greater, I would willingly linger over its groves ofchestnuts, its bright trickling rills and its roaring torrents, itsupland unsuspected valleys and its noble cliffs. The path risesfeteeply from Chatillon, but it is well shaded, and the heat of thesummer sun is tempered by cool air and spray which comes off theice-cold streams.f One sees from the path, at several places onthe right bank of the valley, groups of arches which have been•built high up against the faces of the cliffs. Guide-books repeat—on whose authority I know not—that they are the remains of aBoman aqueduct. They have the Koman boldness of conception,but the work has not the usual Boman solidity. The arches havealways seemed to me to be the remains of an unfinished work, andI learn from Jean-Antoine Carrel thatthere are other groups of arches, whichare not seen from the path, all having thesame appearance. It may be questionedwhether those seen near the village ofAntey are Boman. Some of them aresemicircular, whilst others are distinctlypointed. Here is one of the latter, whichmight pass for fourteenth-century work, or later;—a two-centredarch, with mean voussoirs, and the masonry in rough courses.These arches are well worth the attention of an archaeologist, butsome difficulty will be found in approaching them closely.the summit ; for, when ho got to tho end of " the shoulder," he must have been perfectlyaware that tho wholo height of tho final peak was still above him.* Dr. Tyndall ascended tho Matterhorn in 1868. See Appendix F.. t Information upon the Val Tournanche will bo found in Do Saussure's Voyagesdans les Alpes, vol. iv. pp. 379-81, 406-9; in Canon Carrel's pamphlet, La Vallée deVallornenche en 1867; and in King's Jtoijan Valleys of the Alps, pp. 220-1.

CHAP. v. PELTED BY GOATS. 93We sauntered up the valley, and got to Breil when all wereasleep. A halo round the moon promised watery weather, and wewere not disappointed, for, on the next day (August 1), rain fellheavily, and when the clouds lifted for a time, we saw that newsnow lay thickly over everything higher than 9000 feet. J.-A.Carrel was ready and waiting (as I had determined to give thebold cragsman another chance) ; and he did not need to say thatthe Matterhorn would be impracticable for several days after allthis new snow, even if the weather were to arrange itself at once.Our first day together was accordingly spent upon a neighbouringsummit, the Cimes Blanches ; a degraded mountain, well knownfor its fine panoramic view. It was little that we saw; for, inevery direction except to the south, writhing masses of heavyclouds obscured everything ; and to the south our view was interceptedby a peak higher than the Cimes Blanches, named thoGrand Tournalin.* But we got some innocent pleasure out ofwatching the gambolings of a number of goats, who became fastfriends after we had given, them some salt ; in fact, too fast, andcaused us no little annoyance when we were descending. " Carrel,"I said, as a number of stones whizzed by which they had dislodged," this must be put a stop to." " Diable ! " he grunted, " it is verywell to talk, but how will you do it ? " I said that I would try ;and, sitting down, poured a little brandy into the hollow of myhand, and allured the nearest goat with deceitful gestures. Itwas one who had gobbled up the paper in which the salt had beencarried—an animal of enterprising character—and it advancedfearlessly and licked up the brandy. I shall not easily forget itssurprise. It stopped short, and coughed, and looked at me asmuch as to say, " Oh, you cheat ! " and spat and ran away ; stoppingnow and then to cough and spit again. We were not troubledany more by those goats.More snow fell during the night, and our attempt on theJJatterhorn was postponed indefinitely. As there -was nothing to* I shall speak again of this mountain, and therefore pasB it over for the present.

94 TBE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. v.be done at Breil, I determined to make the tour of the mountain,and commenced by inventing a pass from Breil to Zermatt,* inplace of the hackneyed Théodule. Any one who looks at the mapwill see that the latter pass makes a considerable détour to the east,and, apparently, goes out of the way. I thought that it was possibleto strike out a shorter route, both in distance and in time, and weset out on the 3rd of August, to carry out the idea. We followedthe Théodule path for some time, but quitted it when it bore awayto the east, and kept straight on until we struck the moraine of theMont Cervin glacier. Our track still continued in a straight line upthe centre of the glacier to the foot of a tooth of rock, which juts prominentlyout of the ridge (Furggengrat) connecting the Matterhornwith the Théodulehorn. The head of the glacier was connectedwith this little peak by a steep bank of snow ; but we were able togo straight up, and struck the Col at its lowest point, a little to theright (that is to say, to the east) of the above-mentioned peak. Onthe north there was a snow-slope corresponding to that on the otherside. Half-an-hour took us to its base. We then bore away overthe nearly level plateau of the Furggengletscher, making a straighttrack to the Hörnli, from whence we descended to Zermatt by oneof the well-known paths. .This pass has been dubbed the Breuiljochby the Swiss surveyors. It is a few feet higher than the Théodule,and it may be recommended to those who are familiar with thatpass, as it gives equally fine views, and is accessible at all times.But it will never be frequented like the Théodule, as the snowslopeat its summit, at certain times, will require the use of theaxe. It took us six hours and a quarter to go from one place tothe other, which was an hour longer than we would have occupiedby the Théodule, although the distance in miles is less.It is stated in one of the MS. note-books of the late PrincipalJ. D. Forbes, that this depression, now called the Breuiljoch, wasformerly the pass between the Val Tournanche and Zermatt, andthat it was abandoned for the Théodule in consequence of changes* See the Map of the Matterhorn and its Glaciers.

CHAP. v. TBE BREUILJOCB. 95in the glaciers.* The authority for the statement was not given.I presume it was from local tradition, but I readily credit it ; for,before the time that the glaciers had shrunk to so great an extent,the steep snow-slopes above mentioned, in all probability, did notexist ; and, most likely, the glaciers led by very gentle gradientsup to the summit ; in which case the route would have formed thenatural highway between the two places. It is far from impossible,if the glaciers continue to diminish at their present rapidrate,t that the Théodule itself, the easiest and the most frequentedof all the higher Alpine passes, may, in the course of a few years,become somewhat difficult ; and if this should be the case, thoprosperity of Zermatt will probably suffer.}* My attention was directed to this note by Mr. A. Adams-BeUly.t The summit of the Théodule pass is 10,899 feet above the sea. It is estimatedthat of late about a thousand tourists have crossed it per annum. In the winter, whentho crevasses aro bridged over and partially filled up, and the weather is favourable,cows and sheep pass over it from Zermatt to Val Tournanche, and vice versa.In the middle of August, 1792, De Saussure appears to havo taken mules fromBreil, over the Val Tournanche glacier to tho summit of the Théodule ; and on a previousjourney he did the same, also in the middle of August. He distinctly mentions(§ 2220) that the glacier was completely covered with snow, and that no crevasseswere open. I do not think mules could have been taken over the same spot in anyAugust during tho past twenty years without great difficulty. In that month thoglacier is usually very bare of snow, and many crevasses are open. They aro easilyenough avoided by those on foot, but would prove very troublesome to mules.A few days before we crossed the Breuiljoch in 1863, Mr. F. Morshcad made aparallel pass to it. He crossed the ridgo on tho western side of tho little peak, andfollowed a somewhat more difficult route than ours. In 1865 I wanted to usoMr. Morshead's pass (see p. 235), but found that it was not possible to descend thoZermatt side ; for, during the two years which had elapsed, tho glacier had shrunkso much that it was completely severed from the summit of the pass, and we couldnot get down the rocks that were exposed.X Although the admirablo situation of Zermatt has been known for, at least,forty years, it is only within the last twenty or so that it has become an approvedAlpine centre. Thirty years ago tho Thébdulo pass, tho Wcissthor, and theCol d'Hérens, were, I believe, tho only routes eTer taken from Zermatt across thoPennine Alps. At the present time thero aro (inclusivo of theso passes and of thovalley road) no less than twenty-six different ways in which a tourist may go fromZermatt. The summits of some of these cols aro moro than 14,000 feet above the

96 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. V.Carrel and I wandered out again in the afternoon, and went,first of all, to a favourite spot with tourists near the end of theGorner glacier (or, properly speaking, the Boden glacier), to a littleverdant flat—studded with Euphrasia officinalis—the delight ofWATER-WORN ROCKS IN THE GORGE BELOW THE GORNER GLACIER.swarms of bees, who gather there the honey which afterwardsappears at the table d'hote.On our right the glacier-torrent thundered down the valleylevel of the sea, and a good many of them cannot be recommended, cither for case, oras offering the shortest way from Zermatt to the valleys and villages to which theylead.Zermatt itself is still only a village with 600 inhabitants (about forty of whom areguides), with picturesque chalet dwellings, black with age. The hotels, including thenew inn on the Riffelberg, mostly belong to M. Alexandre Seiler, to whom the villageand valley are very much indebted for their prosperity, and who is (lie best personto consult for information, or in all cases of difficulty.

CHAP. v. RUNNING WATER VERSUS ROCKS. 97through a gorge with precipitous sides, not easily approached ; forthe turf at the top was slippery, and the rocks had everywhere beenrounded by the glacier,—which formerly extended far away. Thisgorge seems to have been made chiefly by the torrent, and to haveSTRIATIONS PRODUCE!) PV GI.AClER-ACT(ON (AT GRINDELWALI)).been excavated subsequently to the retreat of the glacier. It seemsso because not merely upon its walls are there the marks of runningwater, but even upon the rounded rocks at the top of its walls, at aheight of seventy or eighty feet above the present level of thetorrent, there are some of those queer concavities which rapidstreams alone are known to produce on rocks.H

98 THE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. V.A little bridge, apparently frail, spans the torrent just above theentrance to this gorge, and from it one perceives, being fashionedin the rocks below, concavities similar to those to which referencehas just been made. The torrent is seen hurrying forwards. Noteverywhere. In some places the water strikes projecting angles,and, thrown back by them, remains almost stationary, eddyinground and round : in others, obstructions fling it up in fountains,which play perpetually on the under surfaces of overhanging masses;and sometimes do so in such a way that the water not only worksupon the under surfaces, but round the corner ; that is to say, uponthe surfaces which are not opposed to the general direction of thecurrent. In all cases concavities are being produced. Projectingangles are rounded, it is true, and are more or less convex,but they are overlooked on account of the prevalence of concaveforms.Cause and effect help each other here. The inequalities of thetorrent bed and walls cause its eddyings, and the eddies fashionthe concavities. The more profound the latter become, the moredisturbance is caused in the water. The destruction of the rocksproceeds at an over-increasing rate ; for the larger the amount ofsurface that is exposed, the greater are the opportunities for theassaults of heat and cold.When water is in the form of glacier it has not the power ofmaking concavities, such as these, in rocks, and of working uponsurfaces which are not opposed to the direction of the current. Itsnature is changed ; it operates in a different way, and it leavesmarks which are readily distinguished from those produced bytorrent-action.The prevailing forms which result from glacier-action are moreor less convex. Ultimately, all angles and almost all curves areobliterated, and large areas of flat surfaces are produced. This perfectionof abrasion is rarely found, except in such localities as havesustained a grinding much more severe than that which has occurredin the Alps ; and, generally speaking, the dictum of the veteran

CHAP. V. CLIFFS OF TBE MATTERBORN. 99geologist Studer, quoted below, is undoubtedly true.* Not merelycan the operations of extinct glaciers be traced in detail by meansof the bosses of rock popularly termed roches moutonnées, but theireffects in the aggregate, on a range of mountains or an entirecountry, can be recognised sometimes at a distance of fifteen ortwenty miles from the incessant repetition of these convex forms.We finished up the 3d of August with a walk over the Findelenglacier, and returned to Zermatt at a later hour than we intended,both very sleepy. This is noteworthy only on account of that whichfollowed. We had to cross the Col de Valpelline on the next day,and an early start was desirable. Monsieur Seiler, excellent man,knowing this, called us himself, and when he came to my door, Ianswered, "All right, Seiler, I will get up," and immediately turnedover to the other side, saying to myself, "First of all, ten minutesmore sleep." But Seiler waited and listened, and, suspecting thecase, knocked again. "Herr Whymper, have you got a light?"Without thinking what the consequences might be, I answered," No," and then the worthy man actually forced the lock off his owndoor to give me one. By similar and equally friendly and disinterestedacts, Monsieur Seiler has acquired his enviable reputation.At 4 A.M. we left his Monte Bosa Hotel, and were soon pushingour way through the thickets of grey alder that skirt the path upthe right bank of the exquisite little valley which leads to theZ'Muttgletscher.Nothing can well seem more inaccessible than the Matterhornupon this side ; and even in cold blood one holds the breath whenlooking at its stupendous cliffs. There are but few equal to them insize in the Alps, and there are none which can more truly be termedprecipices. Greatest of them all is tho immense north cliff,—thatwhich bends over towards the Z'Muttgletscher. Stones which drop* " Un des faits les mieux constates est quo l'érosion des glaciers so distinguo decelle des eaux en ce que la premiere produit des roches convexes on moutonnées,tandis quo la seconde donne lien h. des concavités."—Prof. B. Studer, Origine desLacs Suisses.H 2

100 TBE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. v.from tho top of that amazing wall fall for about 1500 feet beforethey touch anything ; and those which roll down from above, andbound over it, fall to a much greater depth, and leap well-nigh1000 feet beyond its base. This side of the mountain has always„seemed sombre—sad—terrible ; it is painfully suggestive of decay,ruin, and death ; and it is now, alas ! more than terrible by itsassociations." There is no aspect of destruction about the Matterhorn cliffs,"says Professor Buskin. Granted ;—when they are seen from afar.But approach, and sit down by the side of the Z'Muttgletscher, andyou will hear that their piecemeal destruction is proceeding ceaselessly—incessantly.You will hear, but, probably, you will notsee ; for even when the descending masses thunder as loudly asheavy guns, and the echoes roll back from the Ebihorn opposite,they will still be as pin-points against this grand old face, so vastis its scale !If you would see the ' aspects of destruction,' you must comestill closer, and climb its cliffs and ridges, or mount to the plateauof the Matterhorngletscher, which is cut up and ploughed up bythese missiles, and strewn on its surface with their smaller fragments; the larger masses, falling with tremendous velocity, plungeinto the snow and are lost to sight.The Matterhorngletscher, too, sends down its avalanches, as ifin rivalry with the rocks behind. Bound the whole of its northernside it does not terminate in the usual manner by gentle slopes,but comes to a sudden end at the top of the steep rocks which liebetwixt it and the Z'Muttgletscher ; and seldom does an hour passwithout a hugo slice breaking away and falling with dreadful uproaron to the slopes below, where it is re-compacted.The desolate, outside pines of the Z'Mutt forests, stripped oftheir bark, and blanched by the weather, arc a fit foreground to ascene that can hardly be surpassed in solemn grandeur. It is asubject worthy of the pencil of a great painter, and one whichwould tax the powers of the very greatest.

CHAP. v. AN EXTRAORDINARY ACCIDENT. 101Higher up the glacier the mountain appeared less savage althoughnot less inaccessible ; and, about three hours later, whenwe arrived at the island of rock, called the Stockje (which marksthe end of the Z'Muttgletscher proper, and which separates itshigher feeder, the Stockgletscher, from its lower and greater one*the Tiefenmatten), Carrel himself, one of the least demonstrativeof men, could not refrain from expressing wonder at the steepnessof its faces, and at the audacity that had prompted us to campupon the south-west ridge ; the profile of which is seen very wellfrom the Stockje.* Carrel then saw the north and north-westsides of the mountain for the first time, and was more firmlypersuaded than ever that an ascent was possible only from thedirection of Breil.Three years afterwards I was traversing the same spot with theguide Franz Biener, when all at once a puff of wind brought tous a very bad smell ; and, on looking about, we discovered a deadchamois half-way up the southern cliffs of the Stockje. We clamberedup, and found that it "had been killed by a most uncommonand extraordinary accident. It had slipped on the upper rocks,had rolled over and over down a slope of débris, without being ableto regain its feet, had fallen over a little patch of rocks thatprojected through the débris, and had caught the points of bothhorns on a tiny ledge, not an inch broad. It had just been ableto touch the débris, where it led away down from the rocks, andhad pawed and scratched until it could no longer touch. It hadevidently been starved to death, and we found the poor beast almostswinging in the air, with its head thrown back and tongueprotruding, looking to the sky as if imploring help.* Professor Buskin's view of " the Cervin from the north-west " (Modern Painters,vol. iv.) is taken from the Stockje. The Col du Lion is a little depression on thoridge, close to the margin of the engraving, on the right-hand side ; the third tentplatformwas formed at the foot of the perpendicular cliff, on tho ridge, exactly onethirdway between the Col du Lion and the summit. Tho battlemcntcd portion oftho ridge, a littlo higher np,is called tho " crête du coq" ; and the nearly horizontalportion of tho ridge above it is " tho shoulder."

102 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. v.We had no such excitement as this in 1803, and crossed thiseasy pass to the chalets of Prerayen in a very leisurely fashion.From the summit to Prerayen let us descend in one step. Theway has been described before ; and those who wish for informationabout it should consult the description of Mr. Jacomb, thediscoverer of the pass. Nor need we stop at Prerayen, except toCHAMOIS IN DIFFICULTIES.remark that the owner of the chalets (who is usually taken for acommon herdsman) must not be judged by appearances. He is aman of substance ; he has many flocks and herds ; and although,when approached politely, is courteous, he can (and probably will)act as the master of Prerayen, if his position is not recognised, andwith all the importance of a man who pays taxes to the extent of500 francs per annum to his government.The hill-tops were clouded when Ave rose from our hay on the5th of August. We decided not to continue the tour of our

CHAP. V. ON THE DENT D'ERIN (OR D'HÉRENS). . 103mountain immediately, and returned over our track of the precedingday to the highest chalet on the left bank of the valley,with the intention of attacking the Dent d'Erin on the nextmorning. We were interested in this summit, more on accountof the excellent view which it commanded of the south-westridge and the terminal peak of the Matterhorn, than from anyother reason.The Dent d'Erin had not been ascended at this time, and wehad diverged from our route on the 4th, and had scrambled somedistance up the base of. Mont Brulé, to see how far its southwesternslopes were assailable. We were divided in opinion as tothe best way of approaching the peak. Carrel, true to his habitof sticking to rocks in preference to ice, counselled ascending bythe long buttress of the Tête de Bella Cia (which descends towardsthe west, and forms the southern boundary of the last glacier thatfalls into the Glacier de Zardesan), and thence traversing the headsof all the tributaries of the Zardesan to the western and rockyridge of the Dent. I, on the other hand, proposed to follow theGlacier de Zardesan itself throughout its entire length, and fromthe plateau at its head (where my proposed route would crossCarrel's) to make directly towards the summit, up the snowcoveredglacier slope, instead of by the western ridge. Thehunchback, who was accompanying us on these excursions,declared in favour of Carrel's route, and it was accordinglyadopted.The first part of the programme was successfully executed ;and at 10.30 A.M. on the 0th of August, we were sitting astridethe western ridge, at a height of about 12,500 feet, looking downupon the Tiefenmatten glacier. To all appearance another hourwould place us on the summit; but in another hour we foundthat we were not destined to succeed. The ridge (like all ofthe principal rocky ridges of the great peaks upon which I havestood) had been completely shattered by frost, and was nothingmore than a heap of piled up fragments. It was always narrow,

KM TUE ASCENT OF TUE MATTERHORX. CHAP. V.and where it was narrowest it was also tho most unstable and thomost difficult. On neither side could we ascend it by keeping alittle below its crest,—on the side of the Tiefenmatten because itwas too steep, and on both sides because the dislodgment of asingle block would have disturbed tho equilibrium of all thosewhich were above. Forced, therefore, to keep to the very crest oftho ridge, and unable to deviate a single step cither to the right orto the left, we were compelled to trust ourselves upon unsteadymasses, which trembled under our tread, which sometimes settleddown, grating in a hollow and ominous manner, and which seemedas if a little shake would send the whole roaring down in oneawful avalanche.I followed my leader, who said not a word, and did not rebeluntil wo came to a place where a block had to be surmountedwhich lay poised across the ridge. Carrel could not climb itwithout assistance, or advance beyond it until I joined him above ;and as he stepped off my back on to it, I felt it quiver and beardown upon inc. I doubted the possibility of another man standingupon it without bringing it down. Then I rebelled. There was nohonour to bo gained by persevering, or dishonour in turning froma place which was dangerous on account of its excessive difficulty.Ho we returned to Prerayen, for there was too little time to allowus to re-ascend by tho other route, which was subsequently shownto be tho right way up the mountain.Four days afterwards a party of Englishmen (including myfriends, W. E. Hall, Craufurd Grove, and lìeginald Macdonald),arrived in the Yulpelline, and (unaware of our attempt) on the1:2th, under the skilful guidance of Melchior Anderegg, made thofirst ascent of the Dent d'Erin by the route which I had proposed.This is the only mountain which I have essayed to ascend, thathas not, sooner or later, fallen to me. Our failure was mortifying,yet 1 am satisfied that we did wisely in returning, and that if wehad persevered, by Carrel's route, another Alpine accident wouldhave been recorded. Other routes have been since discovered up

CHAP. v. TUE VA CORNERE PASS. Ktfthe Dent d'Erin. The ascent ranks amongst the more difficultones which have been made in the Alps.*On the 7th of August we crossed the Ya Comoro pass,t andhad a good look at the mountain named the Grand Toumalin aswe descended the Val de Chignana. This mountain was seen fromso many point», and was so much higher than any peak in itsimmediate neighbourhood, that it was bound to give a very fineview ; and (as the weather continued unfavourable for the Matterhorn)I arranged with Carrel to ascend it the next day, anddespatched him direct to the village of Val Tournanche to maketho necessary preparations, whilst I, with Meynet, made a shortcut to Breil, at the back of Mont Panquero, by a little passlocally known as the Col de Fenêtre. I rejoined Carrel the same* On p. 7 it is stated that there was not n pass from Prerayen to Urcil in 1SG0,and this is correct. On July S, 1SGS, my enterprising guido, Jean-Antoine Carrel,started from lireil at '2 A.M. with a well-known comrade—J. liaptistc liich, of ValTournanehc—to endeavour to make one. They went towards the glacier whichdescends from the Dent d'Erin to the south-cast, and, on arriving at its base, ascendedat first by some snow between it and the cliffs on its south, and afterwards took tothe cliffs themselves. [This glacier they called the glacier of Mont Alliert, after thelocal name of tho i*-ak which on Mr. licilly's map of the Vuliicllhic is called 'LesJumeaux.' On Mr. licilly's map the glacier is called 'Glacier d'Erin.'] Theyascended the rocks to n considerable height, and then struck across the glacier,towards Die north, to u small ' rognon ' (isolated patch of rocks) that is nearly in the«•litre of the glacier. They passed alxive this, ami between it and the great tiroes.Afterwards tlu ir route led them towards the Dent d'Erin, and they arrived at thebase of its final peak by mounting a couloir (gully filled with snow), and the rocksat the head of tho glacier. They gained the summit of their pass at 1 P.M., and,descending by the glacier of Zardesan, arrived at Prerayen at O.IIO P.M.As their mute juins that taken by Messrs. Hall, (.'rove, and Macdonald, on theirascent of the Dent d'Erin in liTO, it is evident that that mountain can lie' ascendedfrom lireil. Carrel e'onsiders that the route taken by himself and his comrade Uiehcan be improved upon ; and, if so, it is pos.-ihlc that the asce-nt of the Dent d'Krincan lie made from lireil in less timo than from Prerayen. lireil is very much to bepreferred as a starting-point.t See p. S. The height of this pass, according to the late l'alien Carrel, is10.MÖ5 feet. A jKirtrait of this enthusiastic ami worthy mountaineer is given uponp. 101).

100 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORX.evening at Val Tournanche, and we started from that place at alittle before 5 A.M. on the 8th, to attack the Tournalin.Meynet was left behind for that day, and most unwillingly didtho hunchback part from us, and begged hard to be allowed tocome. "Pay mo nothing, only let me go with you;" "I shallwant but a little bread and cheese, and of that I won't eat much ; "" I would much rather go with you than carry things down thovalley." Such were his arguments, and I was really sorry thatthe rapidity of our movements obliged us to desert the good littleman.Carrel led over the meadows on the south and east of the bluffupon which the village of Yal Tournanche is built, and then by azig-zag path through a long and steep forest, making many shortcuts, which showed he had a thorough knowledge of the ground.After we came again into daylight, our route took us up one ofthose little, concealed, lateral valleys which are so numerous onthe slopes bounding the Yal Tournanche.This valley, the Combe do Ceneil, has a general easterly trend,and contains but one small cluster of houses (Ceneil). The Tournalinis situated at the head of the Combe, and nearly due east ofthe village of Yal Tournanche, but from that place no part of themountain is visible. After Ceneil is passed it comes into view,rising above a cirque of cliffs (streaked by several fine waterfalls),at the end of the Combe. To avoid these cliffs the path bendssomewhat to the south, keeping throughout to the left bank of thovalley, and at about 3500 feet above Yal Tournanche, and 1Ô00feet above Ceneil and a mile or so to its east, arrives at the base ofsome moraines, which are remarkably large considering the dimensionsof the glaciers which formed them. The ranges upon thewestern side of the Val Tournanche are seen to great advantagefrom this spot ; and here the path ends and the way steepens.When we arrived at these moraines, we had a choice of tworoutes. One, continuing to the east, over the moraines themselves,the débris above them, and a large snow-lied still higher up, to a

"THEY SCATTERED :N A PANIC WHEN SALUTEO BY THE CRIES OF MY EXCITED COMRADE."

CHAP. v. ASCENT OF THE GRAND TOURNALIN. 107kind of col or depression to the south of the peak, from whence aneasy ridge led towards the summit. The other, over a shrunkenglacier on our north-east (now, perhaps, not in existence), whichled to a well-marked col on the north of the peak, from whencea less easy ridge rose directly to the highest point. We followedthe first named of these routes, and in little more than half-anhourstood upon the Col, which commanded a most glorious viewof the southern side of Monte Rosa, and of the ranges to its east,and to the east of the Val d'Ayas.Whilst we were resting at this point, a large party of vagrantchamois arrived on the summit of the mountain from the northernside, some of whom—by their statuesque position—seemed toappreciate the grand panorama by which they were surrounded,while others amused themselves, like two-legged tourists, in rollingstones over the cliffs. The clatter of these falling fragments madeus look up. The chamois were so numerous that we could notcount them, and clustered around the summit, totally unaware ofour presence. They scattered in a panic, as if a shell had burstamongst them, when saluted by tho cries of my excited comrade ;and plunged wildly down in several directions, with unfalteringand unerring bounds, with such speed and with such grace that wewere filled with admiration and respect for their mountaineeringabilities.The ridge that led from the Col towards the summit wassingularly easy, although well broken up by frost, and Carrelthought that it would not be difficult to arrange a path for mulesout of the shattered blocks ; but when we arrived on the summitwe found ourselves separated from the very highest point bya cleft which had been concealed up to that time : its southernside was nearly perpendicular, but it was only fourteen or fifteenfeet deep. Carrel lowered me down, and afterwards descended ontó the head of my axe, and subsequently on to my shoulders, witha cleverness which was almost as far removed from my awkwardnessas his own efforts were from those of the chamois. A few

108 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. V.easy steps then placed us on the highest point. It had notbeen ascended before, and we commemorated the event bybuilding a huge cairn, which was seenfor many a mile, and would have lastedfor many a year, had it not been throwndown by the orders of Canon Carrel,on account of its interrupting the sweepof a camera which he took to the lowersummit in 1868, in order to photographthe panorama. According to that wellknownmountaineer the summit of theGrand Tournalin is 6100 feet above thevillage of Val Tournanche, and 11,155feet above the sea. Its ascent (includinghalts) occupied us only four hours.I recommend any person who hasa day to spare in the Val Tournancheto ascend the Tournalin. It should beremembered, however (if its ascent ismade for the sake of the view), thatthese southern Pennine Alps seldomremain unclouded after mid-day, and,indeed, frequently not later than 10or 11 A.M. Towards sunset the equilibriumof the atmosphere is restored, and the clouds very commonlydisappear.I advise the ascent of this mountain not on account of itsheight, or from its accessibility or inaccessibility, but simply forthe wide and splendid view which may be seen from its summit.Its position is superb, and the list of the peaks which can be seenfrom it includes almost the whole of the principal mountains of theCottian, Dauphiné, Graian, Pennine, and Oberland groups. Theview has, in the highest perfection, those elements of picturesquenesswhich are wanting in the purely panoramic views of higher

CHAP. V. ON PANORAMIC VIEWS. 109summits. There are three principal sections, each with a centralor dominating point, to which the eye is naturally drawn. Allthree alike are pictures in themselves ; yet all are dissimilar. Inthe south, softened by the vapours of the Val d'Aoste, extends thelong line of the Graians, with mountain after mountain 12,000 feetand upwards in height. It is not upon these, noble as some ofthem are, that the eye will rest, but upon the Viso, far off in thebackground. In the west and towards the north the range of MontBlanc, and some of the greatest of the Central Pennine Alps (includingthe Grand Combinand the Dent Blanche) formthe background, but they areoverpowered by the grandeurof the ridges which culminatein the Matterhorn. Nor in theeast and north, where pleasantgrassy slopes lead downwardsto the Val d'Ayas, nor uponthe glaciers and snow-fieldsabove them, nor upon theOberland in the background,will the eye long linger, whenTHE LATE CANON CARKEL, OF AOSTA.immediately in front, severalmiles away, but seeming close at hand, thrown out by the pureazure sky, there are the glittering crests of Monte Uosa.Those who would, but cannot, stand upon the highest Alps, mayconsole themselves with the knowledge that they do not usuallyyield the views that make the strongest and most permanentimpressions. Marvellous some of the panoramas seen from thegreatest peaks undoubtedly are ; but they are necessarily withoutthose isolated and central points which are so valuable pictorially.The eye roams over a multitude of objects (each, perhaps, grandindividually), and, distracted by an embarrassment of riches,wanders from one to another, erasing by the contemplation of the

110 TUE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. v.next the effect that was produced by the last; and when thosehappy moments are over, which always fly with too great rapidity,the summit is left with an impression that is seldom durable,because it is usually vague.No views create such lasting impressions as those which areseen hut for a moment, when a veil of mist is rent in twain, and asingle spiro or dome is disclosed. The peaks which are seen atthese moments are not, perhaps, the greatest or the noblest, butthe recollection of them outlives the memory of any panoramicview, because the picture, photographed by the eye, has time todry, instead of being blurred, while yet wet, by contact with otherimpressions. The reverse is the case with the bird's-eye panoramicviews from the great peaks, which sometimes embrace a hundredmiles in nearly every direction. The eye is confounded by thecrowd of details, and is unable to distinguish the relative importanceof the objects which are seen. It is almost as difficult toform a just estimate (with the eye) of the respective heights of anumber of peaks from a very high summit, as it is from the bottomof a valley. I think that the grandest and the most satisfactorystandpoints for viewing mountain scenery are those which aresufficiently elevated to give a feeling of depth, as well as of height,which are lofty'enough to exhibit wide and varied views, but notso high as to sink everything to the level of the spectator. Thoview from the Grand Tournalin is a favourable example of thisclass of panoramic views.We descended from the summit by the northern route, andfound it tolerably stiff clambering as far as the Col. Thence, downthe glacier, the way was straightforward, and we joined the routetaken on the ascent at the foot of the ridge leading towards theeast. In the evening we returned to Breil.There is an abrupt rise in the valley about two miles to thenorth of the village of Val Tournanche, and just above this stepthe torrent has eaten its way into its bed and formed an extraordinarychasm, which has long been known by the name Gouffre

CHAP. v. GOUFFRE DES BUSSERAILLES. Illdes Busserailles. We lingered about this spot to listen to thethunder of the concealed water, and to watch its tumultuous boilingas it issued from the gloomy cleft, but our efforts to peer intothe mysteries of the place were baffled. In November 1865, theintrepid Carrel induced two trusty comrades—the Maquignaz's ofVal Tournanche—to lower him by a rope into the chasm and overthe cataract. The feat required iron nerves, and muscles andsinews of no ordinary kind; and its performance alone stampsCarrel as a man of dauntless courage. One of the Maquignaz'ssubsequently descended in the same way, and these two men wereso astonished at what they saw, that they forthwith set to workwith hammer and chisel to make a way into this romantic gulf.In a few days they constructed a rough but convenient plankgallery into the centre of the gouffre, along its walls; and, onpayment of a toll of half a franc, any one can now enter theGouffre des Busserailles.I cannot, without a couple of sections and a plan, give an exactidea to the reader of this remarkable place. It corresponds insome of its features to the gorge figured upon page 96, but itexhibits in a much more notable manner the characteristic actionand extraordinary power of running water. The length of thechasm or gouffre is about 320 feet, and from the top of its wallsto the surface of the water is about 110 feet. At no part canthe entire length or depth be seen at a glance ; for, although thewidth at some places is 15 feet or more, the view is limited bythe sinuosities of the walls. These are everywhere polished toa smooth, vitreous-in-appearance surface. In some places thetorrent has wormed" into the rock, and has left natural bridges.The most extraordinary features of the Gouffre des Busserailles,however, are the caverns (or marmites as they are termed), whichthe water has hollowed out of the heart of the rock. Carrel's plankpath leads into one of the greatest,—a grotto that is about 28 feetacross at its largest diameter, and 15 or 16 feet high ; roofed abovoby the living rock, and with the torrent roaring 50 feet or there-

112 TBE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. V.abouts below, at the bottom of a fissure. This cavern is lighted bycandles, and talking in it can only be managed by signs.I visited the interior of the gouffre in 1869, and my wonder atits caverns was increased by observing the hardness of the hornblendeout of which they have been hollowed. Carrel chiselled offa large piece, which is now lying before me. It has a highlypolished, glassy surface, and might be mistaken, for a moment, forice-polished rock. But the water has found out the atoms whichwere least hard, and it is dotted all over by minute depressions,much aa the face of one is who has suffered from smallpox.The edges of these little hollows are rounded, nnd the wholesurfaces of the depressions are polished nearly, or quite, as highlyas the general surface of the fragment. The water has eatenmore deeply into some veins of steatite than in other places, andthe presence of the steatite may possibly have had something todo with the formation of the gouffre.I arrived at Breil again after an absence of six days, well satisfiedwith my tour of the Matterhorn, which had been rendered verypleasant by the willingness of my guides, and by the kindliness ofthe natives. Still, it must be admitted that the inhabitants of theVal Tournanche are behind the times. Their paths are as bad as,or worse than, they were in the time of De Saussure, and their innsare much inferior to those on the Swiss side. If it were otherwisethere would be nothing to prevent the valley becoming one of themost popular and frequented of all the valleys in the Alps. Asit is, tourists who enter it seem to think only about how soon theycan get out of it, and hence it is much less known than it deservesto be on account of its natural attractions.I believe that the great hindrance to the improvement of thepaths in the Italian valleys generally is the wide-spread impressionthat the innkeepers would alone directly benefit by any ameliorationof their condition. To a certain extent this view is correct ; butinasmuch as the prosperity of the natives is connected with that oftho innkeepers, the interests of both are pretty nearly identical.

CHAP. V. A WORD OF ADVICE. 113Until their paths are rendered less rough and swampy, I think theItalians must submit to see the golden harvest principally reapedin Switzerland and Savoy. At the same time, let the innkeeperslook to the commissariat. Their supplies are not unfrequentlydeficient in quantity, and, according to my experience, very oftendeplorable in quality.I will not venture to criticise in detail the dishes which -arebrought to table, since I am profoundly ignorant of their constitution.It is commonly said amongst Alpine tourists that goat fleshrepresents mutton, and mule does service for beef and chamois. Ireserve my own opinion upon this point until it has been shownwhat becomes of all the dead mules. But I may say, I hope, withoutwounding the susceptibilities of my acquaintances among theItalian innkeepers, that it would tend to smoothen their intercoursewith their guests if requests for solid food were less frequentlyregarded as criminal. The deprecating airs with which inquiriesfor really substantial food are received always remind me of aDauphiné innkeeper, who remarked that ho had heard a good manytourists travel in Switzerland. "Yes," I answered, " there are agood many." "How many?" "Well," I said, "I have seen ahundred or more sit down at a table d'hôte." He lifted up hishands—" Why," said he, " they would want meat every day ! "" Yes, that is not improbable." " In that case," he replied, " Ithink we are better without them."

CHAPTEB VI.OÜK SIXTH ATTEMPT TO ASCEND THE MATTERHORN.*"But mighty Jovo cuts short, with just disdain,•—» rpjj 0 i 0 ng 5 i on g views of poor, designing man."HOMER.CAEKEL had carte blanche in the matter of guides, and his choice fellupon his relative Caesar, Luc Meynet, and two others whose namesI do not know. These men were now brought together, and ourpreparations were completed, as the weather was clearing up.We rested on Sunday, August 9, eagerly watching the lesseningof the mists around the great peak, and started just before dawnupon the 10th, on a still and cloudless morning, which seemed topromise a happy termination to our enterprise.By going always, though gently, we arrived upon the Col du Lionbefore nine o'clock. Changes were apparent. Familiar ledges hadvanished ; the platform, whereupon my tent had stood, looked veryforlorn, its stones had been scattered by wind and frost, and hadhalf disappeared : and the summit of the Col itself, which in 1862had always been respectably broad, and covered by Bnow, wasnow sharper than the ridge of any church roof, and was hard ice.Already we had found that the bad weather of the past week haddone its work. The rocks for several hundred feet below the Colwere varnished with ice. Loose, incoherent snow covered theolder and harder beds below, and we nearly lost our leader throughits treacherousness. Ho stepped on some snow which seemed firm,and raised his axe to deliver a swinging blow, but, just as it was* A hrief account of this excursion was published in the Athenäum, August 29,18C3.

CHAP. vi. TBE VALUE OF A BOPE TO CLIMBERS. 115highest, the crust of the slope upon which he stood broke away,and poured down in serpentine streams, leaving long, bare strips,which glittered in the sun, for they we're glassy ice. Carrel, withadmirable readiness, flunghimself back on to the rock off which hehad stepped, and was at once secured. He simply remarked, " Itis time we were tied up," and, after we had been tied up, he wentto work again as if nothing had happened.*We had abundant illustrations during the next two hours of thevalue of a rope to climbers. We were tied up rather widely apart,and advanced, generally, in pairs. Carrel, who led, was followedclosely by another man, who lent him a shoulder or placed an axeheadunder his feet, when there was need ; and when this couplewere well placed the second pair advanced, in similar fashion,—the rope being drawn in by those above, and paid out gradually bythose below. The leading men again advanced, or the third pair,and so on. This manner of progression was slow, but sure. Oneman only moved at a time, and if he slipped (and we frequently didslip) he could slide scarcely a foot without being checked by theothers. Tho certainty and safety of the method gave confidence totho one who was moving, and not only nerved him to put out hispowers to the utmost, but sustained nerve in really difficult situations.For these rocks (which, it has been already said, were easyenough under ordinary circumstances) were now difficult in a highdegree. The snow-water which had trickled down for many dayspast in little streams, had taken, naturally, the very route bywhich we wished to ascend ; and, refrozen in the night, had glazedthe slabs over which we had to pass,—sometimes with a fine filmof ice as thin as a sheet of paper, and sometimes so thickly that we* This incident occurred close to the placo represented in the engraving facingp. 78. Tho new, dry snow was very troublesome, and poured down like flourinto thosteps which were cut across tho slopes. The front man accordingly moved ahead asfar as possible, and anchored himself to rocks. A ropo was sent across to him, wasfixed at each end, and was held as a rail by the others as they crossed. We did nottrust to this ropo alone, but were also tied in tho usual manner. The second ropewas employed as an additional security against slips.i2

116 . TBE ASCENT OF THE MATTERBORN. CHAP. VI.could almost cut footsteps in it. The weather was superb, themen made light of the toil, and shouted to rouse the echoes fromthe Dent d'Hérens.We went on gaily, passed the second tent platform, theChimney, and the other well-remembered points, and reckoned, confidently,on sleeping that night upon the top of " the shoulder ; "but, before we had well arrived, at the foot of the Great Tower, asudden rush of cold air warned us to look out.It was difficult to say where this air came from; it did notblow as a wind, but descended rather as the water in a shower-bath !All was tranquil again ; the atmosphere showed no signs of disturbance; there was a dead calm, and not a speck of cloud to be seenanywhere. But we did not remain very long in this state. The coldair came again, and this time it was difficult to say where it did notcome from. We jammed down our hats as it beat against the ridge,and screamed amongst the crags. Before we had got to the foot ofthe Tower, mists had been formed above and below. They appearedat first in small, isolated patches (in several places at the same time),which danced and jerked and were torn into shreds by the wind,but grew larger under the process. They were united together, andrent again,—showing us the blue sky for a moment, and blotting itout the next ; and augmented incessantly, until the whole heavenswere filled with whirling, boiling clouds. Before we could take offour packs, and get under any kind of shelter, a hurricane of snowburst upon us from the east. It fell very heavily, and in a fewminutes the ridge was covered by it. " What shall we do ? " Ishouted to Carrel. " Monsieur," said he, " the wind is bad ; theweather has changed ; we are heavily laden. Here is a fine gite ;let us stop ! If we go on we shall be half-frozen. That is myopinion." No one differed from him ; so we fell to work to makea place for the tent, and in a couple of hours completed the platformwhich we had commenced in 1862. The clouds had blackenedduring that time, and we had hardly finished our task beforea thunderstorm broke upon us with appalling fury. Forked

CHAP. vi. IN TBE FOCUS OF A STORM. 117lightning shot Out at the turrets above, and at the crags below.It was so close that we quailed at its darts. It seemed to scorchus,—we were in the very focus of the storm. The thunder wassimultaneous with the flashes ; short and sharp, and more like thenoise of a door that is violently slammed, multiplied a thousandfold,than any noise to which I can compare it.When I say that the thunder was simultaneous with the lightning,I speak as an inexact person. My meaning is that thetime which elapsed between seeing the flash and hearing thereport was inappreciable to me. I wish to speak with all possibleprecision, and there are two points with regard to this storm uponwhich I can speak with some accuracy. The first is in regard tothe distance of the lightning from our party. We might havebeen 1100 feet from it if a second of time had elapsed betweenseeing the flashes and hearing the reports ; and a second of timeis not appreciated by inexact persons. It was certain that wewere sometimes less than that distance from the lightning,because I saw it pass in front of well-known points on the ridge,both above and below us, which were less (sometimes considerablyless) than a thousand feet distant.Secondly, in regard to the difficulty of distinguishing soundswhich are merely echoes from true thunder, or the noise whichoccurs simultaneously with lightning. Arago entered into thissubject at some length in his Meteorological Essays, and seemed todoubt if it would ever be possible to determine whether echoes arealways the cause of the rolling sounds commonly called thunder.*I shall not attempt to show whether the rolling sounds shouldever, or never, be regarded as true thunder, but only that duringthis storm upon the Matterhorn it was possible to distinguish thesound of the thunder itself from the sounds (rolling and otherwise)which were merely the echoes of the first, original sound.* " There is, therefore, little hope of thus arriving at anything decisive as to thoexact part which echoes take in the production of tho rolling sound of thunder."P. 165, English ed., translated by Col. Sabine : Longmans, 1855.

118 TBE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. VI.At the place where wè were camped a remarkable echo couldbe heard (one so remarkable that if it could be heard in thiscountry it would draw crowds for its own sake) ; I believe it camefrom the cliffs of the Dent d'Hérens. It was a favourite amusementwith us to shout to rouse this echo, which repeated anysharp cry, in a very distinct manner, several times, after the lapseof something like a dozen seconds. The thunderstorm lasted nearlytwo hours, and raged at times with great fury ; and the prolongedrollings from the surrounding mountains, after one flash, had notusually ceased before another set of echoes took up the discourse,and maintained the reverberations without a break. Occasionallythere was a pause, interrupted presently by a single clap, theaccompaniment of a single discharge, and after such times I couldrecognise the echoes from the Dent d'Hérens by their peculiarrepetitions, and by the length of time which had passed since thereports had occurred of which they were the echoes.If I had been unaware of the existence of this echo, I shouldhave supposed that the resounds were original reports of explosionswhich had been unnoticed, since in intensity they were scarcelydistinguishable from tho true thunder ; which, during this storm,seemed to me, upon every occasion, to consist of a single, harsh,instantaneous sound.*Or if, instead of being, placed at a distance of less than athousand feet from the points of explosion (and consequentlyhearing the report almost in the same moment as we saw the flash,* The same has seemed to me to be the case at all times when I have been closeto tho points of explosion. Thcro has been always a distinct interval between thofirst explosion and tho rolling sounds and secondary explosions which I have believedto bo merely echoes ; but it has never been possible (except in the above-mentionedcase) to identify them as such.Others havo observed tho same. " Tho geologist, Professor Theobald, of Chur,who was in the Solferino storm, between the Tschicrtscher and Unlen Alp, in theelectric clouds, says that tho peals were short, like cannon shots, but of a clearer,more cracking tone, and that the rolling of the thunder was only heard farther on."Berlepsch's Alps, English ed., p. 133.

CHAP, VL ECBOES OF TBUNDER. 110and the rollings after a considerable interval of time), we had beenplaced so that the original report had fallen on our ears nearly atthe same moment as the echoes, we should probably have consideredthat the successive reports and rollings of the echoes werereports of successive explosions occurring nearly at the samemoment, and that they were not echoes at all.This is the only time (out of many storms witnessed in theAlps) I have obtained evidence that the rollings of thunder areactually echoes ; and that they aro not, necessarily, the reports ofa number of discharges over a long line, occurring at varyingdistances from the spectator, and consequently unable to arrive athis ear at the same moment, although they follow each other soswiftly as to produce a sound more or.less continuous.*The wind during all this time seemed to blow tolerably consistentlyfrom the east. It smote the tent so vehemently (notwithstandingit was partly protected by rocks) that we had grave fearsour refuge might be blown away bodily, with ourselves inside; so,during some of the lulls, we issued out and built a wall to windward.At half-past three the wind changed to the north-west, andthe clouds vanished. We immediately took the opportunity tosend down one of the porters (under protection of some of theothers, a little beyond the Col du Lion), as the tent would accommodateonly five persons. From this time to sunset the weatherwas variable. It was sometimes blowing and snowing hard, andsometimes a dead calm. The bad weather was evidently confinedto the Mont Cervin, for when the clouds lifted we could see every-* Mr. J. Glaisher has frequently pointed out that all sounds in balloons at somedistance from tho earth are notable for their brevity. " It is one sound only; thereis no reverberation, no reflection ; and this is characteristic of all sounds in tho balloon,one clear sound, continuing during its own vibrations, then gone in a moment"—Good Words, 1863, p. 221.I leam from Mr. Glaisher that the thunder-claps which have been heard by himduring his "travels in tho air" have been no exception to tho general rule, and thoabsence of rolling has fortified his belief that the rolling sounds which accompanythunder are echoes, and echoes only.

;i2o TBE ASCENT OF. TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP, vi;thing, that could be seen from our gîte. Monte Viso, a hundredmiles off, was clear, and the sun set gorgeously behind the range bfMont Blanc, Wo passed the night comfortably—even luxuriously—in our blanket-bags, but there was little chance of sleeping,between the noise of the wind, of the thunder, and of the fallingrocks. . I forgave the thunder lor the sake of the lightning. Amore splendid spectacle than.its illumination of the Matterhorncrags I do notexpect to see.*The greatest rock-falls always seemed to occur in the night,between midnight and daybreak. This was noticeable on each ofthe seven nights which I passed upon the south-west ridge, atheights varying from 11,800 to 13,000 feet. .I may be wrong in supposing that the falls in the night aregreater than those in the daytime, since sound is much morestartling during darkness than when the cause of its production isseen. Even a sigh may be terrible in the stillness of the night.In the daytime one's attention is probably divided between thesound and the motion of rocks which fall ; or it may be concentratedon other matters. But it is certain that the greatest of the fallswhich happened during the night took place after midnight, andthis I connect with the fact that the maximum of cold duringany twenty-four hours very commonly occurs between midnightand dawn.We turned out at 3.30 A.M. on the 11th, and were dismayed tofind that it still continued to snow. At 9 A.M. it ceased to fall,and the sun showed itself feebly, so we packed up our baggage,and set out to try to get upon " the shoulder." We struggledupwards until eleven o'clock, and then it commenced to snow again.We held a council ; the opinions expressed at it were unanimousagainst advancing, and I decided to retreat. For we had risen lessthan 300 feet in the past two hours, and had not even arrived atthe rope which Tyndall's party left behind, attached to the rocks,* Sec Appendix B for the experiences of Mr. It. B. Ileathcote during a thunderstormon the Matterhorn in 1860.

THE "GREAT TOWEB.""CRÊTE Dì: C(M)< s \ f1tés*^THE CRACS OF THE MATTERHORN, DURINC THE STORM. MiCNICHT, AUC. 10, 1863.

• HAP. vi. " ONLY THAT SMALL CLOUD." 121in 1862. At the same rate of progression it would have taken usfrom four to five hours to get upon " the shoulder." Not one of uscared to attempt to do so under the existing circumstances ; forbesides having to move our own weight, which was sufficientlytroublesome at this part of the ridge, we had to transport muchheavy baggage, tent, blankets, and provisions, ladder, and 450 feetof rope, besides many other smaller matters. These, however, werenot the most serious considerations. Supposing that we got upon" the shoulder," we might find ourselves detained there severaldays, unable either to go up or down.* I could not risk any suchdetention, being under obligations to appear in London at the endof the week.We returned to Breil in the course of the afternoon. It wasquite fine there, and the tenants of the inn received our statementswith evident scepticism. They wereastonished to learn that we had beenexposed to a snow-storm of twentysixhours' duration. " Why," saidFavre, the innkeeper, " we have hadno snow ; it has been fine all thetime you have been absent, andthere has been only that smallcloud upon the mountain." Ah !that small cloud ! None exceptthose who have had experience ofMONSIEUR FAVRE.it can tell what a formidable obstacle it is.Why is it that the Matterhorn is subject to these abominablevariations of weather ? The ready answer is, " Oh, the mountainis so isolated ; it attracts the clouds." This is not a sufficientanswer. Although the mountain is isolated, it is not so much moreisolated than the neighbouring peaks that it should gather cloudswhen none of the others do so. It will not at all account for the* Since then (on at least one occasion), several person.- have found themselves inthis predioament foi ftve or àx consécutive days!

122 TBE* ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. vi.cloud to which I refer, which is not formed by an aggregation ofsmaller, stray clouds drawn together from a distance (as scumcollects round a log in the water), but is created against themountain itself, and springs into existence where no clouds wereseen before. It is formed and hangs chiefly against the southernsides, and particularly against the south-eastern side. It frequentlydoea not envelop the summit, and rarely extends down to theGlacier du Lion, and to the Glacier du Mont Cervin below. Itforms in the finest weather; on cloudless and windless days.I conceive that we should look to differences of temperaturerather than to the height or isolation of the mountain for an explanation.I am inclined to attribute the disturbances which occurin the atmosphere of the southern sides of the Matterhorn on finedays,* principally to the fact that the mountain is a rock mountain ;that it receives a great amount of heat,t and is not only warmeritself, but is surrounded by an atmosphere of a higher temperaturethan such peaks as the Weisshorn and the Lyskamm, which areeminently snow mountains.In certain states of the atmosphere its temperature may betolerably uniform over wide areas and to great elevations. I haveknown the thermometer to show 70° in the shade at the top of anAlpine peak more than 13,000 feet high, and but a very few degreeshigher 6000 or 7000 feet lower. At other times, there will be adifference of forty or fifty degrees (Faht.) between two stations,the higher not more than 6000 or 7000 feet above the lower.Provided that the temperature was uniform, or nearly so, onall sides of the Matterhorn, and to a considerable distance aboveits summit, no clouds would be likely to form upon it. But if theatmosphere immediately surrounding it is warmer than the contiguousstrata, a local ' courant ascendant ' must necessarily begenerated ; and portions of the cooler superincumbent (or circum-* I am speaking exclusively of the disturbances which occur in the day-timeduring fine weather.t Tho rocksore sometimes so hot that they aro almost imiiiful to touch.

CHAP. vi. MYSTERIOUS MISTS. 123jacent) air will naturally be attracted towards the mountain, wherethey will speedily condense the moisture of the warm air in contactwith it. I cannot explain the downrushes of cold air which occuron it, when all the rest of the neighbourhood appears to be tranquil,in any other way. The clouds are produced by the contactof two strata of air (of widely different temperatures) charged withinvisible moisture, as surely as certain colourless fluids produce awhite, turbid liquid, when mixed together. The order has been—wind of a low temperature—mist—rain—snow or hail.*This opinion is borne out to some extent by the behaviourof the neighbouring mountains. The Dom (14,935 feet) and theDent Blanche (14,318) have both of them large cliffs of bare rockupon their southern sides, and against those cliffs clouds commonlyform (during fine, still weather) at the same time as the cloud onthe Matterhorn ; whilst the Weisshorn (14,804) and the Lyskamm(14,889), (mountains of about the same altitude, and which are incorresponding situations to the former pair) usually remain perfectlyclear.I arrived at Chatillon at midnight on the 11th, defeated anddisconsolate ; but, like a gambler who loses each throw, only themore eager to have another try, to see if the luck would change :and returned to London ready to devise fresh combinations, andto form new plans.* The mists are extremely deceptive to those who arc ou the mountain itself.Sometimes they seem to be created at a considerable distance, as if the whole of theatmosphere of the neighbourhood was undergoing a change, when in reality they arebeing formed in immediate proximity to the mountain.LHO^IM. THE CHANNEL.

CHAPTEE VII.FROM ST. MICHEL ON THE MONT CENIS EOAD BY TUE COL DESAIGUILLES D'AEVE, COL DE MARTIGNARE, AND THE BRÈCHE DELA MEIJE TO LA BÉRARDE."The more to help the greater deed is done."HOMES.WHEN we arrived upon the highest summit of Mont Pelvoux, inDauphiné, in 1861, we saw, to our surprise and disappointment,that it was not the culminating point of the district ; and thatanother mountain—distant about a couple of miles, and separatedfrom us by an impassable gulf—claimed that distinction. I wastroubled in spirit about this mountain, and my thoughts oftenreverted to the great wall-sided peak, second in apparent inaccessibilityonly to the Matterhorn. It had, moreover, anotherclaim to attention—it was the highest mountain in France.The year 1862 passed away without a chance of getting to it,and my holiday was too brief in 1863 even to think about it ; but inthe following year it was possiblo, and I resolved to set my mind atrest by completing the task which had been left unfinished in 1861.In the meantime others had turned their attention to Dauphiné.First of all (in 1862) came Mr. F. Tuckett—that mighty mountaineer,whose name is known throughout the length and breadth ofthe Alps—with the guides Michel Croz, Peter Perm, and BartolommeoPeyrotte, and great success attended his arms. But Mr. Tucketthalted before the Pointe des Ecrins, and, dismayed by its appearance,withdrew his forces to gather less dangerous laurels elsewhere.His expedition, however, threw some light upon the Ecrins.He pointed out the direction from which an attack was most likelyto be successful, and Mr. William Mathews and the Bev. T. G.

CHAP. vu. TBE AIGUILLES D'ARVE. 127It is pleasant to remember how they worked together, and howeach one confided to you that he liked tho other so much becausehe worked so well ; but it is sad, very sad, to those who haveknown the men, to know that they can never work together again.We met at St. Michel on the Mont Cenis road, at midday onJune 20, 1864, and proceeded in the afternoon over the Col deValloires to the village of the same name. The summit of thispretty little pass is about 3500 feet above St. Michel, and from itwe had a fair view of the Aiguilles d'Arve, a group of three peaksof singular form, which it was our especial object to investigate.*They had been seen by ourselves and others from numerous distantpoints, and always looked very high and very inaccessible ; but wehad been unable to obtain any information about them, except thefew words in Joanne's Itinéraire du Dauphiné. Having made outfrom the summit of the Col de Valloires that they could be• approached from the Valley of Valloires, we hastened down tofind a place where we could pass the night, as near as possibleto the entrance of the little valley leading up to them.By nightfall we arrived at the entrance to this little valley (Vallondes Aiguilles d'Arve), and found some buildings placed just wherethey were wanted. The proprietress received us with civility, andplaced a large barn at our disposal, on the conditions that no lightswere struck or pipes smoked therein ; and when her terms wereagreed to, she took us into her own chalet, made up a huge fire,heated a gallon of milk, and treated us with genuine hospitality.In the morning we found that the Vallon des Aiguilles d'Arveled away nearly due west from the Valley of Valloires, and thatthe village of Bonnenuit was placed (in the latter valley) almostexactly opposite to tho junction of the two.At 3.55 A.M. on the 21st we set out up the Vallon, passed for atime over pasture-land, and then over a stony waste, deeply chan-* Tho Pointe des Ecrins is also seen from tho top of the Col do Valloires, risingabove tho Col du Galibier. This is the lowest elevation from which I have seen thoactual summit of the Ecrins.

128 THE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. vn.nelled by watercourses. At 5.30 the two principal Aiguilles werewell seen, and as, by this time, it was evident that the authors ofFROM VALLOIRES/ • . A TO COL DU/ QAUB1ER• the Sardinian official map had romanced asjTo LA GRAVEextensively in this neighbourhood as else-where, it was necessary to hold a council.Three questions were submitted to it :—Firstly, Which is thehighest of these Aiguilles?Thirdly, How is it to be done ?Secondly, Which shall we go up?The French engineers, it was said, had determined that thetwo highest of them were respectively 11,513 and 11,529 feet inheight ; but we were without information as to which two theyhad measured.* Joanne indeed said (but without specifyingwhether he meant all three) that the Aiguilles had been severaltimes ascended, and particularly mentioned that the one of11,513 feet was "relatively easy."We therefore said, "We will go up the peak of 11,529 feet."That determination did not settle the second question.Joanne's" relatively easy" peak, according to his description, was evidently• the most northern of the three.other two ;—but which of them ?Our peak then was to be one of theWe were inclined to favour thecentral one ; but it was hard to determine, they looked so equalin height.When, however, the council came to study the third* It should bo observed that these mountains were included in the territoryrecently ceded to France. The Sardinian map above referred to was the old officialmap. The French survey alluded to afterwards is the survey in continuation of thogreat French official map. Sheet No. 179 includes the Aiguilles d'Arve.

CHAP. VÌI. COL DES AIGUILLES D'ARVE. 129question—" How is it to be done ?" it was unanimously voted thatupon the eastern and southern sides it was certainly "relatively " difficult,and that a move should be made round to the northern side.The movement was duly executed, and after wading up somesnow-slopes of considerable steepness (going occasionally beyond40°), we found ourselves in a gap or nick, between the central andnorthernmost Aiguille, at 8.45 A.M. We then studied the northernface of our intended peak, and finally arrived at the conclusion thatit was "relatively" impracticable. Croz shrugged his big shoulders,and said, " My faith ! I think you will do well to leave it to others."Aimer was more explicit, and volunteered the information that athousand francs would not tempt him to try it. We then turnedto the northernmost peak, but found its southern faces even morehopeless than the northern faces of the central one. We enjoyedaccordingly the unwonted luxury of a three-hours' rest on the topof our pass ; for pass we were determined it should be.We might have done worse. We were 10,300 or 10,400 feetabove the level of the sea, and commanded a most picturesque viewof the mountains of the Tarentaise ; while, somewhat east of south,we saw the monarch of the Dauphiné massif, whose closer acquaintanceit was our intention to make. Three sunny hours passed away,and then we turned to the descent. Wo saw the distant pastures ofa valley (which we supposed was the Vallon or Bavine de la Sausse),and a long snow-slope leading down to them. But from that slopewe were cut off by precipitous rocks, and our first impressionwas that we should have to return in our track. Some runningup and down, however, discovered two little gullies, filled withthreads of snow, and down the most northern of these we decidedto go. It was a steep way but a safe one, for the cleft was sonarrow that we could press the shoulder against one side whilst thefeet were against the other, and the last remnant of the winter'ssnow, well hardened, clung to the rift with great tenacity, andgave us a path when the rocks refused one. In half-an-hour wegot to tho top of the great snow-slope. Walker said—" Let usK

130 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CUAP. VII.THE A1G1MLI.ES D'AKVE,FROM ABOVE THE CHALETS OF RlEU BLANC, SHOWING KOL'TE.glissade ;" the guides—" No, it is too steep." Our friend, however,started off at a standing glissade, and advanced for a timevery skilfully ; but after a while he lost his balance, and progresseddownwards and backwards with great rapidity, in a way thatseemed to us very much like tumbling head over heels. He letgo his axe, and left it behind, but it overtook him and batted himheartily. He and it travelled in this fashion for some hundreds offeet, and at last subsided into the rocks at the bottom. In a fewmoments we were reassured as to his safety, by hearing himironically request us not to keep him waiting down there.We others followed the track shown by the dotted line upon theengraving (making zigzags to avoid the little groups of rocks whichjutted through the snow, by which Walker had been upset), descendedby a sitting glissade, and rejoined our friend at the bottom.We then turned sharply to the left, and tramped down the summitridge of an old moraine of great size. Its mud was excessively

CHAP. vu. INACCESSIBILITY OF TBE AIGUILLES. 131 •hard, and where some large erratic blocks lay perched upon itscrest, we were obliged to cut steps (in the mud) with our ice-axes.Guided by the sound of a distant 'moo,' we speedily found thehighest chalets in the valley, named Bieti Blanc. They weretenanted by three old women (who seemed to belong to one of themissing links sought by naturalists), destitute of all ideas except inregard to cows, and who spoke a.barbarous patois, well-nigh unintelligibleto the Savoyard Croz. They would not believe that wehad passed between the Aiguilles,—"It is impossible, the cowsnever go there." " Could we get to La Grave over ;yonder ridge ?"" Oh yes ! the cows often crossed 1" Could they show us the way ?No ; but we could follow the cow-tracks.We stayed a while near these chalets, to examine the westernsides of the Aiguilles d'Arve, and, according to our united opinion,the central one was as inaccessible from this direction as from theeast, north, or south. On the following day we saw them again,from a height of about 11,000 feet, in a south-easterly direction,and our opinion remained unchanged.We saw (on June 20-22) the central Aiguille from all sides,and very nearly completely round the southernmost one. Thénorthern one we also saw on all sides excepting from the north. (Itis, however, precisely from this direction M. Joanne says that itsascent is relatively easy.) We do not, therefore, venture to expressany opinion respecting its ascent, except as regards its actualsummit. This is formed of two curious prongs, or pinnacles ofrock, and we do not understand in what way they (or either ofthem) can be ascended ; nor shall we be surprised if this ascent isdiscovered to have been made in spirit rather than body ; in fact,in the same manner as the celebrated ascent of Mont Blanc, " notentirely to the summit, but as far as the Montanvert !"All three of the Aiguilles may be accessible, but they look asinaccessible as anything I have seen. They are tho highestsummits between the valleys of the Romanche and the Arc ; theyare placed slightly to tho north of tho watershed between thosex 2

132 TBE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. VII.twò valleys, and a line drawn through them runs, pretty nearly,north and south.,We descended by a rough path from Bien Blanc to the chaletsof La Sausse, which give the name to the Vallon or Bavine de laSausse, in which they are situated. This is one of the numerousbranches of the valley that descends to St. Jean d'Arve, and subsequentlyto St. Jean de Maurienne... Two passes, more or less known, lead from this-valley to thevillage of La Grave (on the Lautaret road) in the valley of theRomanche, viz: :—the Col de l'lnfernet and the Col de Martignare.The former pass was crossed, many years ago, by J. D. Forbes,and was mentioned by him in his Norway and its Glaciers. Thelatter one lies tö the north of the former, and is seldom traversedby tourists, but it was convenient for us, and we set out to cross iton the morning of the 22d, after having passed a comfortable, butnot luxurious, night in the hay, at La Sausse, where, however, thesimplicity of the accommodation was more than counterbalancedby the civility and hospitality of the people in charge.*[Our object now was to cross to La Grave (on the high roadfrom Grenoble to Briançon), and to ascend, en route, some pointsufficiently high to give us a good view of the Dauphiné Alps ingeneral, and of the grand chain of the Meije in particular. Before* -'Whilst stopping in tho hospice on tho Col do Lautaret, in 1869,1 was accostedby a middle-aged peasant, who asked if I would ride (for a consideration) in his carttowards Briançon. He was inquisitive as to my knowledge of his district, and atlost asked, " Have you been at La Sausse ?" " Yes." " Well, then, I tell you, yousaw there some of the first people in the world," " Yes," I said, " they were primitive,certainly." But he was serious, and went on—" Yes, real brave people ; " and, slappinghis kneo to givo emphasis, " but that they are first-rate for minding the cows I "After this he became communicative. "You thought, probably," said he," when I offered to take you down, that I was some poor , not worth a »ou; butI will tell you, that was my mountain 1 my mountain I that you saw at La Sausse;they were my cows I a hundred of them altogether." " Why, you are rich." " Passablyrich. I have another mountain on the Col du Galibicr, and another at Villeneuve."He (although a common peasant in outward appearance) confessed to beingworth four thousand pounds.

CHAP. vìi. ASCENT OF TEE AIGUILLE DE LA SAUSSE. 133leaving England a careful study of ' Joanne ' had elicited the factthat the shortest route from La Sausse! to La Grave was by theCol de Martignare ; and also that from the aforesaid Col it waspossible to ascend a lofty summit, called by him the Bec-du-Grenier,also called Aiguille de Goléon. On referring, however, to theSardinian survey, we found there depicted, to the east of the Colde Martignare, not one peak bearing the above two names, but twodistinct summits; one—just above the Col—the Bec-du-Grenier(the height of which was not stated) ;• the other, still farther to theeast, and somewhat to the south of the watershed—the Aiguille duGoléon (11,250 English feet in height), with a very considerableglacier—the Glacier Lombard—between'the two. On the Frenchmap,* on the other hand, neither ofthe above names was to befound, but a peak called Aiguille de la Sausse (10,897 feet), wasplaced in the position assigned to'the Bëc-du-Grenier in the Sardinianmap ; while farther to the east was a second and namelesspeak (10,841), not at all in the position given to the Aiguille duGoléon, of which and of the Glacier Lombard there was not a sign.All this was very puzzling and unsatisfactory ; but as we had nodoubt of being able to climb one of the points to the east of theCol de Martignare (which overhung the Ravine de la Sausse), wedetermined to make that col the basis of our operations.]!We left the chalets at 4.15 A.sr. [under a shower of goodwishes from our hostesses], proceeded at first towards the upper endof the ravine, then doubled back up a long buttress which projectsin an unusual way, and went towards the Col de Martignare ; butbefore arriving at its summit we again doubled, and resumed the* We hod seen a tracing from the unpublished sheets of the French GovernmentSurvey.t The bracketed paragraphs in Chaps. VIL VIII. and IX. are extracted from thoJournal of Mr. A. W. Moore.It would be uninteresting and unprofitable to enter into a discussion of tho confusionof these naines at greater length. It is sufficient to say that they wcroconfounded in a most perplexing manner by all the authorities we were able toconsult, and also by tho natives on the spot.

134 TBE. ASCENT OF TBE MATTEBBORN. CHAP. vn.original course.* At 6 A.M. we stood on the watershed, and followedit towards the east ; keeping for some distance strictly to theridge, and afterwards diverging a little to the south to avoid a considerablesecondary aiguille, which prevented a straight track beingmade to the summit at which we were aiming. At 9.15 we stoodon its top, and saw at once the lay of the land.We found that our peak was one of four which enclosed aplateau that was filled by a glacier. Let us call these summitsA, B, c, D (see plan on p. 128).- We stood upon C, which was almostexactly the same elevation as B, but was higher than D, and lowerthan A. Peak A was the highest of the four, and was about 200feet higher than B and c ; we identified it as the Aiguille de Goléon(French survey, 11,250 feet). Peak D we considered was the Becdu-Grenier;and, in default of other names, we called B and c theAiguilles de la Sausse. The glacier flowed in a south-easterlydirection, and was the Glacier Lombard.Peaks B and c overhung the Ravine de la Sausse, and wereconnected with another aiguille—E—which did the same. A continuationof the ridge out of which these three aiguilles rose joinedthe Aiguilles d'Arve, The head of the Ravine de la Sausse wastherefore encircled by six peaks ; three of which it was convenientto term the Aiguilles de la Sausse, and the others were the Aiguillesd'Arvé. . , -.-•.''.We were very fortunate in the selection of our summit. Not tospeak of other things, it gave a grand view of the ridge which culminatesin the peak called La Meije (13,080 feet), which used to bementioned by travellers under the name Aiguille du Midi de laGrave. The view of this mountain from the village of La Graveitself can hardly be praised too highly,—it is one of the very finestroad-views in the Alps. The Ortler Spitz from the Stelvio is, infact, its only worthy competitor; and the opinions generally of* A great part of this morning's route led over shales, which were loose andtroublesome, and were probably a continuation of the well-known beds of tho Col duGnlibier and tho Col do Lautaret.

CHAP, VIL TBE PIC DE LA MEIJE. 135those who have seen the two views are in favour of the former.But from La Grave one can no more appreciate the noble proportionsand the towering height of the Meije, than understand thesymmetry of the dome of St. Paul's by gazing upon it from thechurchyard. To see it fairly, one must be placed at. a greaterdistance and at a greater height.I shall not try to describe the Meije. The same words, and thesame phrases, have to do duty for one and another mountain ; theirrepetition becomes wearisome ; and 'tis a discouraging fact that anydescription, however true or however elaborated, seldom or nevergives an idea of the reality.Yet the Meije deserves more than a passing notice. It wasthe last great Alpine peak which knew the foot of man, andone can scarcely speak in exaggerated terms of its jagged ridges,torrential'glaciers, and tremendous precipices.* But were I todiscourse upon these things without the aid of pictures, or toendeavour to convey in words a sense of the loveliness of curves,of the beauty of colour, or of the harmonies of sound, I should tryto accomplish that which is impossible ; and, at the best, shouldsucceed in but giving an impression that the things spoken of mayhave been pleasant to hear or to behold, although they are perfectlyincomprehensible to read about. Let me therefore avoid these* The ridge called La Meije runs from E.S.E. to W.N.W., and is crowned bynumerous aiguilles of tolerably equal elevation. The two highest are towards theeastern and 'western ends of the ridge, and are rather moro than a mile apart. Tothe former the French surveyors assign a height of 12,730, and to the latter 13,080feet. In our opinion tho western aiguille can hardly ~be more than 200 feet higherthan the eastern one. It is possible that its height may have diminished since itwas measured.In 18691 carefully examined the eastern end of the ridgo from the top of the Colde Lautaret, and saw that the summit at that end can bo ascended by following along glacier which, descends from it towards the N.E. into the Valley of Arsine.The highest summit presents considerable- difficulties.Sheet 189 of tho French map is extremely inaccurate in tho neighbourhood of theMeije, and particularly so on its northern side. Tho ridges and glaciers which arelaid down upon it can scarcely be identified on the spot

136 TEE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. our. vn.things, not because I have no love for or thought of them, butbecause they cannot be translated into language; and presently,when topographical details must, of necessity, be returned to again,I will endeavour to relieve the poverty of the pen by a free use ofthe pencil. ' .Whilst we sat upon the Aiguille de la Sausse, our attention wasconcentrated on a point that was-imméalately opposite—on a gapor cleft between the Meije and the mountain called the Bateau.It was, indeed, in order to have a good view of this place that wemade the ascent of the Aiguille. It (that is the gap itself) looked,as my companions remarked, obtrusively and offensively a pass.It had not been crossed, but it ought to have been; and thisseemed to have been recognised by the natives, who called it, veryappropriately, the Breche de la Meije.I had seen the place in 1860, and again in 1861, but had notthen thought about getting through it ; and our information in respectto it was chiefly derived from a photographic reproduction ofthe then unpublished sheet 189, of the great map of France, whichMr. Tuckett, with his usual liberality, had placed at our disposal.It was evident from this map that if we could succeed in passingthe Brèche, we should make the most direct route between the villageof La Grave and that of Berardo in the Department of the Isère, andthat the distance between these two places by this route, would beless than one-third that of the ordinary way via the villages ofFreney and Venos. It may occur to some of my readers, why had itnot been done before ? For the very sound reason that the valleyon its southern side (Vallon des Etançons) is uninhabited, andLa Berardo itself is a miserable village, without interest, withoutcommerce, and almost without population. Why then did we wishto cross it ? Because we were bound to the Pointe des Ecrins, towhich La Berardo was the nearest inhabited place.When we sat upon the Aiguille de la Sausse, we were ratherdespondent about our prospects of crossing the Brèche, whichseemed to present a combination of all that was formidable. There

CHAP. vn. MELCHIOR. 137was, evidently, but one way by which it could be approached. Wesaw that at the top of the pass there was a steep wall of snow orice (so steep that it was most likely ice) protected at its base by abig schrund or moat, which severed it from the snow-fields below.Then (tracking our course downwards) we saw undulating snowfieldsleading down to a great glacier. The snow-fields would beeasy work, but the glacier was riven and broken in every direction ;huge crevasses' seemed to extend entirely across it in some places,and everywhere it had that strange twisted look, which tells of theunequal motion of the ice. Where could we get on to it ? At itsbase it came to a violent end, being cut short by a cliff, over whichit poured periodical avalanches, as we saw by a great triangularbed öf débris below. We could not venture there,—the glaciermust be taken in flank. .But on which side? Not on the west,—no one could- climb those cliffs. It must, if any where, be bythe rocks on the east; and they looked as if they were rochesmoutonnées. .- So we hurried down to La Grave, to hear what MelchiorAnderegg (who had just passed through the village with thefamily of our friend. Walker) had to say on the matter. Whois Melchior Anderegg ? Those who ask the question cannot havebeen in Alpine Switzerland; where the name of Melchior is as wellknown as the name of Napoleon. Melchior, too, is an Emperorin his way—a very Prince among guides. His empire is amongstthe ' eternal snows,'—his sceptre is an ice-axe.Melchior Anderegg, moro familiarly, and perhaps more generallyknown " simply as Melchior, was born at Zaun, nearMeiringen, on April 6, 1828. He was first brought into publicnotice in HinchclifFs Summer Months in the Alps, and wasknown to very few persons at the time that little work waspublished. In 1855 he was "Boots" at the Grimsel Hotel, andin those days, when he went out on expeditions, it was for thebenefit of his master, the proprietor; Melchior himself only gotthe trinkgelt. In 1856 he migrated to the Schwarenbach Inn on

138 TUE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. VII.the Gemmi, where he employed his time in carving objects forsale. In 1858 he made numerous expeditions with Messrs.Hinchcliff and Stephen, and proved to his employers that hepossessed first-rate skill, indomitable courage, and an admirablecharacter. His position has never been doubtful since that year,and for a long time there hasbeen no guide whose serviceshave been more in request : heis usually engaged a year inadvance.It would be almost an easiertask to say what he has not donethan to catalogue his achievements.Invariable success attendshis arms; he leads hisfollowers to victory, but not todeath. I believe that no seriousaccident has ever befallen travellersin his charge. Like hisfriend Aimer, he can be calleda safe man. It is the highestpraise that can be given to a. first-rate guide.Early in the afternoon wefound ourselves in the little innat La Grave, on the greatMELCHIOR ANDEKEGG IN 1864.Lautaret road, a rickety, tumbledownsort of place, with nothing stable about it, as Moore wittilyremarked, except the smell.* Melchior had gone, and had left* The justness of the observation will be felt by those who knew La Grave inor before 1864. At that time the horses of the couriers who were passing fromGrenoble to Briançon, and vice vena, were lodged immediately underneath thesallc-a-manger and bedroom», and a pungent, steamy odour rose from them throughthe cracks in the floor, and constantly pervaded the whole hou.se. I am told that theinn lias been considerably improved since 1864.

. CHAP. vn. TÈE BRECHE IS WON. 139behind a note which said, "I think the passage of the Brecheis possible, but that it will be very difficult." His opinion coincidedwith ours, and we went to sleep, expecting to be afootabout eighteen or twenty hours on the morrow.At 2.40 the next morning we left La Grave, in a few minutescrossed the Romanche, and at 4 A.n. got to the moraine of theeastern branch of the glacier that descends from the Brèche.*The rocks by which we intended to ascend were placed betweenthe two branches of this glacier, and still looked smooth and unbroken.By 5 o'clock we were upon them, and saw that we hadbeen deluded by them. No carpenter could have planned a moreconvenient staircase. They were not moutonnée, their smooth lookfrom a distance was only owing to their singular firmness. [It wasreally quite a pleasure to scale such delightful rocks. We feltthe stone held the boot so well, that, without making a positiveeffort to do so, it would be almost impossible to slip.] In an hourwe had risen above the most crevassed portion of the glacier, andbegan to look for a way on to it. Just at the right place therewas a patch of old snow at the side, and, instead of gaining the iceby desperate acrobatic feats, we passed from the rocks on to it aseasily as one walks across a gangway. At half-past 6 we wereon the centre of the glacier, and the inhabitants of La Graveturned out en masse into the road, and watched us with amazementas they witnessed the falsification of their confident predictions.Well might they stare, for our little caravan, looking tothem like a train of flies on a wall, crept up and up, withouthesitation and without a halt—lost to their sight one minute asit dived into a crevasse, then seen again clambering up the otherside. The higher we rose the easier became the work, the angleslessened, and our pace increased. The snow remained shadowed,and we walked as easily as on a high road; and when (at 7.45)the summit of the Brèche was seen, we rushed at it as furiously. * Our routo from La Grave to La Berardo will be seen on tho accompanyingmap.

140 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. VII.as if it had been a breach in the wall of a fortress, carried themoat by a dash, with a push behind and a pull before, stormed thesteep slope above, and at 8.50 stood in thelittle gap, 11,054 feet above the level of thesea. The Breche was won. Well mightthey stare ; five hours and a quarter hadsufficed for 6500 feet of ascent.* Wescreamed triumphantly as they turned into breakfast.SCALE, THREE MILES TO ANINCH.All mountaineers know how valuable itis to study beforehand an intended routeover new ground from a height at somedistance. None but blunderers fail to doso, if it is possible ; and one cannot do sotoo thoroughly. As a rule, the closer oneapproaches underneath a summit, the moredifficult it is to pick out a path with judgment.Inferior peaks seem unduly important,subordinate ridges are exalted, andslopes conceal points beyond ; and if oneblindly undertakes an ascent, withouthaving acquired a tolerable notion of therelative importance of the parts, and oftheir positions to one another, it will be miraculous if greatdifficulties are not encountered.But although the examination of an intended route from aheight at a distance will tell one (who knows the meaning of thethings he is looking at) a good deal, and will enable him to steerclear of many difficulties against which he might otherwise blindlyrun, it will seldom allow one to pronounce positively upon thepracticability or impracticability of the whole of the route. Noliving man, for example, can pronounce positively from a distance* Taking one kind of work with another, a thousand feet of height per hour isabout as much as is usually accomplished on great Alpine ascents.

ciiAr. VII. GLACIER PREFERABLE TO ROCK. 141in regard to rocks. Those just mentioned are an illustration ofthis. Three of the ablest and most experienced guides concurredin thinking that they would be found very difficult, and yet theypresented no difficulty whatever. In truth, the sounder and lessbroken up are the rocks, the more impracticable do they usuallylook from a distance ; while soft and easily rent rocks, which arcoften amongst tho most difficult and perilous to climb, very frequentlylook from afar as if they might be traversed by a child.It is possible to decide with greater certainty in regard to thopracticability of glaciers. When one is seen to have few open crevasses(and this may bo told from a great distance), then we knowthat it is possible to traverse it ; but to what extent it, or a glacierthat is much broken up by crevasses,-will be troublesome, willdepend upon the width and length of the crevasses, and upon theangles of the surface of the glacier itself. A glacier may be greatlycrevassed, but the fissures may be so narrow that there is no occasionto deviate from a straight lino when passing across them ; ora glacier may have few open crevasses, and yet may be practicallyimpassable on account of the steepness of the angles of its surface.Nominally, a man with an axe can go anywhere upon a glacier, butin practice it is found that to move freely upon ice one must haveto deal only with small angles. It is thus necessary to knowapproximatelythe angles of the surfaces of a glacier before it ispossible to determine whether it will afford easy travelling, or willbe so difficult as to be (for all practical purposes) impassable. Thiscannot be told by looking at glaciers in full face from a distance ;they must be seen in profile ; and it is often desirable to examinethem both from the front and in profile,— to do tho first to studythe direction of the crevasses, to note where they are most and leastnumerous ; and the second to see whether its angles arc moderateor great. Should they bo very steep, it may be better to avoidthem altogether, and to mount even by difficult rocks ; but uponglaciers of gentle inclination, and with few open crevasses, betterprogress can always be made than upon the easiest rocks.

142 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. VII.So much to explain why we were deceived when looking at theBreche de la Meije from the Aiguille de la Sausse. We took noteof all the difficulties, but did not pay sufficient attention to thedistance that the Breche was south of La Grave. My meaning willbe apparent from the accompanying diagram, Fig. 1 (constructedupon the data supplied by the French surveyors), which will alsoserve to illustrate how badly angles of elevation are judged by theunaided eye.••'IG. a. Fic j.The village of La Grave is just 5000 feet, and tho highestsummit of the Meije is 13,080 feet above the level of the sea.There is therefore a difference in their levels of 8080 feet. Butthe summit of the Meije is south of La Grave about 14,750 feet,and, consequently, a line drawn from La Grave to the summit of theMeije is no steeper than the dotted line drawn from A to c, Fig. 1 ;or, in other words, if one could go in a direct Hue from La Graveto the summit of the Meije the ascent would be at an angle of lessthan 30°. Nine persons out of ten would probably estimate theangle on the spot at double this amount.*The Breche is 2000 feet below the summit of the Meije, andonly 6000 feet above La Grave. A direct ascent from the villageto the Breche would consequently be at an angle of not much morethan 20°. But it is not possible to make the ascent as the crowflies ; it has to be made by an indirect and much longer route.Our track was probably double the length of a direct line betweenthe two places. Doubling the length halved the angles, and we* Fig. 2 represents in a similar manner the distance and elevation of the Matterhornfrom and above Zermatt. See p. 45.

CHAP. VII. VALLON DES ETANÇONS. 143therefore arrive at the somewhat amazing conclusion, that uponthis, one of the steepest passes in the Alps, the mean of allthe angles upon the ascent could not have been greater than11° or 12°. Of course, in some places, the angles were muchTHE VALLON DES ETANÇONS (LOOKING TOWARDS LA DÉRARDEÌ.*steeper, and in others less, but the mean of the whole could nothave passed the angle above indicated.We did not trouble ourselves much with these matters whenwe sat on the top of the Brèche. Our day's work was as goodas over (for we knew from Messrs. Mathews and Bonney thatthere was no difficulty upon the other side), and we abandonedourselves to ease and luxury ; wondering, alternately, as we gazedupon the Râteau and the Ecrins, how the one mountain could* The drawing was inadvertently made the right way on the wood, and the viewis now reverted in consequence.

\U THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. VII.possibly hold itself together, and whether the other would holdout against us. . The former looked [so rotten that it seemed as ifa puff of wind or a clap of thunder might dash the whole fabric topieces] ; while the latter asserted itself the monarch of the group,and towered head and shoulders above all the rest of the peakswhich form tho great horse-shoo of Dauphiné. At length a cruelrush of cold air made us shiver, and shift our quarters to a littlegrassy plot, 3000 feet below—an oasis in a desert—where welay nearly four hours admiring tho splendid wall of the Meije.*Then we tramped down the Vallon des Etançons, a howling wilderness,tho abomination of desolation ; destitute alike of animalor vegetable life ; pathless, of course ; suggestive of chaos, butof little else; covered almost throughout its entire length withdébris from the size of a walnut up to that of a house ; in aword, it looked as if half-a-dozen moraines of first-rate dimensionshad been carted and shot into it. Our tempers were soured byconstant pitfalls [it was impossible to take the eyes from the feet,and if an unlucky individual so much as blew his nose, withoutstanding still to perform the operation, the result was eitheran instantaneous tumble, or a barked shin, or a half-twisted ankle.There was no end to it, and we became more savage at every step,unanimously agreeing that no power on earth would ever induceus to walk up or down this particular valley again.] It wasnot just to the valley, which was enclosed by noble mountains,—unknown, it is true, but worthy of a great reputation, andwhich, if placed in other districts, would be sought after, andcited as types of daring form and graceful outline.f* This wall may be described as an exaggerated Gemmi, as seen from Leukerbad.From the highest summit of La Meije right down to tho Glacier des Etançons (adepth of about 3200 feet), the cliff is all but perpendicular, and appears to be completelyunassailable. It is the most imposing tiling of its kind that I have seen.t Since this chapter was first printed, the whole of tho Aiguilles d'Arve havebeen nscended, and also the highest point of tho Jleije. For information upon theseascents the reader is referred to tho pages of the Alpine Journal.

CHAPTER Vili.THE FIKST ASCEXT OF THE TOIXTE DES ECRINS." Filled with high mountains, rearing their heads as if to reach to heaven, crownedwith glaciers, and fissured with iiuniense chasms, where lie the eternal snows guardedby bare and rugged cliffs ; offering the most varied sights, and enjoying all temperatures; and containing everything that is most curious and interesting, the mostsimple and the moat sublime, the most smiling and the most severe, the most beautifuland the roost awful ; such is the department of the High Alps."LADOCCETTE.BEFORE 5 o'clock on the afternoon of June 23, we were trottingdown the steep path that leads into La Bérarde. We put up, ofcourse, with the chasseur-guide Rodier (who, as usual, was smoothand smiling), and, after congratulations were over, we returned tothe exterior to watch for the arrival of one Alexander Pic, who hadbeen sent overnight with our baggage via Freney and Venos. Butwhen the night fell, and no Pic appeared, we saw that our plansmust be modified ; for he was necessary to our very existence—hecarried our food, our tobacco, our all. So, affer some discussion, itwas agreed that a portion of our programme should be abandoned,that the night of the 24th should be passed at the head of thoGlacier de la Bonne Pierre, and that, on the 25th, a push shouldbe made for the summit of the Ecrins. We then went to straw.Our porter Pic strolled in next morning with a very jauntyair, and we seized upon our tooth-brushes; but, upon looking forthe cigars, we found starvation staring us in the face. " Hullo !Monsieur Pic, where are our cigars ? " " Gentlemen," he began, " Iam desolated ! " and then, quite pat, he told a long rigmarole abouta fit on the road, of brigands, thieves, of their ransacking the knap-L

146 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORX. CHAP. viir.sacks when he was insensible, and of finding them gone when herevived ! " Ah ! Monsieur Pic, we see what it is, you have smokedthem yourself! " "Gentlemen, I never smoke, never!" Whereuponwe inquired secretly if he was known to smoke, and foundthat he was. However, he said that he had never spoken truerwords, and perhaps he had not, for he is reported to be the greatestliar in Dauphiné !We were now able to start, and set out at 1.15 P.M. to bivouacupon the Glacier de la Bonne Pierre, accompanied by Rodier, whostaggered under a load of blankets. Many slopes had to be mounted,and many torrents to be crossed, all of which has been describedby Mr. Tuckett.* We, however, avoided the difficulties he experiencedwith the latter by crossing them high up, where they weresubdivided. But when we got on to the moraine on the right bankof the glacier (or, properly speaking, on to one of the moraines, forthere are several), mists descended, to our great hindrance ; and* Alpine Journal, Decomber 1S03.

CHAP. VIII. DISSOLVING VIEWS. 147it was 5.30 before we arrived on the spot at which it was intendedto camp.Each one selected his nook, and we then joined round a grandfire made by our men. Fortnum and Mason's portable soup wassliced up and brewed, and was excellent; but it should be saidthat before it was excellent, three times the quantity named in thedirections had to be used. Art is required in drinking as inmaking this soup, and one point is this—always let your friendsdrink first ; not only because it is more polite, but because thesoup has a tendency to burn the mouth if taken too hot, and onedrink of the bottom is worth two of the top, as all the goodnesssettles.[While engaged in these operations, the mist that enveloped theglacier and surrounding peaks was becoming thinner ; little bits ofblue sky appeared here and there, until suddenly, when we werelooking towards the head of the glacier, far, far above us, at analmost inconceivable height, in a tiny patch of blue, appeared awonderful rocky pinnacle, bathed in the beams of the fast-sinkingsun. We were so electrified by the glory of the sight that it wassome seconds before we realised what we saw, and understood thatthat astounding point, removed apparently miles from the earth,was one of the highest summits of Les Ecrins ; and that wo hoped,before another sun had set, to have stood upon an even loftier pinnacle.The mists rose and fell, presenting us with a series of dissolvingviews of ravishing grandeur, and finally died away, leavingthe glacier and its mighty bounding precipices under an exquisitepale blue sky, free from a single speck of cloud.]The night passed over without anything worth mention, but wehad had occasion to observe in the morning an instance of thecurious evaporation that is frequently noticeable in tho High Alps.On the previous night we had hung up on a knob of rock ourmackintosh bag containing five bottles of Rodier's bad wine. Inthe morning, although the stopper appeared to have been in allnight, about four-fifths had evaporated. It was strange ; my friendsi. 2

148 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. VIII.had not taken any, neither had I, and the guides each declared thatthey had not seen any one touch it. In fact it was clear thatthere was no explanation of the phenomenon, but in the drynessof the air. Still it is remarkable that the dryness of the air (orthe evaporation of wine) is always greatest when a stranger is inone's party—the dryness caused by the presence of even a singleChamounix porter is sometimes so great, that not four-fifths butthe entire quantity disappears. For a time I found difficulty incombating this phenomenon, but at last discovered that if I usedthe wine-flask as a pillow during the night, the evaporation wascompletely stopped.At 4 A.M. we moved off across the glacier in single file towardsthe foot of a great gully, which led from the upper slopes of theglacier de la Bonne Pierre, to the lowest point in the ridge thatruns from tho Ecrins to the mountain called Roche Faurio,—cheered by Rodier, who now returned with his wraps to LaBérarde. This gully (or couloir) was discovered and descended byMr. Tuckett, and we will now return for a minute to the explorationsof that accomplished mountaineer.In the year 1862 he had the good fortune to obtain from theDépôt de la Guerre at Paris, a MS. copy of the then unpublishedsheet 189 of the map of France, and with it in hand, he sweptbackwards and forwards across the central Dauphiné Alps, untroubledby the doubts as to the identity of peaks, which had perplexedMr. Macdonald and myself in 1861 ; and, enlightened byit, he was able to point out (which he did in the fairest manner)that we had confounded the Ecrins with another mountain—thePic Sans Nom. We made this blunder through imperfect knowledgeof the district and inaccurate reports of the natives ;—butit was not an extraordinary one (the two mountains are not unlikeeach other), considering the difficulty that there is in obtainingfrom any except tho very highest summits a complete view ofthis intricate group.The situations of the principal summits can be perceived at a

CHAP. VIII. RIDGES IN NEIGBBOURBOOD OF THE ECRINS. 149glance on the accompanying map, which is a reproduction of a portionof sheet 189. The main ridge of the chain runs, at this part,nearly north and south. Roche Faurio, at the northern extreme, is3716 mètres, or 12,192 feet, above the level of the sea. The lowestpoint between that mountain and the Ecrins (the Col des Ecrins) is11,000 feet. The ridge again rises, and passes 13,000 feet in theneighbourhood of the Ecrins. The highest summit of that mountain(13,462 feet) is, however, placed a little to the east of and offthe main ridge. It then again falls, and in the vicinity of the Colde la Tempe it is, perhaps, below 11,000 feet; but immediately to thesouth of the summit of that pass, there is upon the ridge a pointwhich has been determined by the French surveyors to bo 12,323feet. This peak is without a name. The ridge continues to gainheight as we come to the south, and culminates in the mountainwhich the French surveyors have called Sommet de l'Aile Froide.On the spot it is called, very commonly, tho Aléfroide.There is some uncertainty respecting the elevation of this mountain.The Frenchmen give 3925 mètres (12,878) as its highestpoint, but Mr. Tuckett, who took a good theodolite to the top ofMont Pelvoux (which he agreed with his predecessors had an elevationof 12,973 feet), found that the summit of the Aléfroide waselevated above his station 4' ; and as the distance between the twopoints was 12,467 feet, this would represent a difference in altitudeof 5 mètres in favour of the Aléfroide. I saw this mountain fromthe summit of Mont Pelvoux in 1861, and was in doubt as to whichof the two was the higher, and in 1864, from the summit of thePointe des Ecrins (as will presently be related), it looked actuallyhigher than Mont Pelvoux. I have therefore little doubt but thatMr. Tuckett is right in believing the Aléfroide to have an elevationof about 13,000 feet, instead of 12,878, as determined by the Frenchsurveyors.Mont Pelvoux is to the east of the Aléfroide and off the mainridge, and the Pic Sans Norn (12,845 feet) is placed between thesetwo mountains. The latter is one of the grandest of the Dauphiné

150 THE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. VIII.peaks, but it is shut in by the other mountains, and is seldomseen except from a distance, and then is usually confounded withthe neighbouring summits. Its name has been accidentally omittedon the map, but its situation is represented by the large patch ofrocks, nearly surrounded by glaciers, that is seen between the wordsAilefroide and Mt. Pelvoux.The lowest depression on the main ridge to the south of theAléfroide is the Col du Selé, and this, according to Mr. Tuckett, is10,834 feet. The ridge soon rises again, and, a little farther tothe south, joins another ridge running nearly east and west. To amountain at the junction of these two ridges the Frenchmen havegiven the singular name Crête des Bœufs Rouges ! The highestpoint hereabouts is 11,332 feet ; and a little to the west there isanother peak (Mont Bans) of 11,979 feet. The main ridge runsfrom this last-named point, in a north-westerly direction, to theCols de Says, both of which exceed 10,000 feet.It will thus be seen that the general elevation of this mainridge is almost equal to that of the range of Mont Blanc, or of thecentral Pennine Alps ; and if we were to follow it out more completely,or to follow the other ridges surrounding or radiating fromit, we should find that there is a remarkable absence, throughoutthe entire district, of low gaps and depressions, and that there arean extraordinary number of peaks of medium elevation.* Thedifficulty which explorers have experienced in Dauphiné in identifyingpeaks, has very much arisen from the elevation of the ridgesgenerally being more uniform than is commonly found in the Alps,and the consequent facile concealment of one point by another.The difficulty has been enhanced by the narrowness and erraticcourses of the valleys.The possession of the 'advanced copy' of sheet 189 of theFrench map, enabled Mr. Tuckett to grasp most of what I have just* There aro more than twenty peaks exceeding 12,000 feet, and thirty othersexceeding 11,000 feet, within the district liounded by the rivers Itomanche, Drac,and Durance.

CHAP. VIII. TUE COL DES ECRINS. 151said, and much more ; and ho added, in 1862, three interestingpasses across this part of the chain to those already known. Thofirst, from Ville Vallouise to La Bérarde, via the village of Claux,and the glaciers du Selé and de la Pilatte,—this he called the Coldu Selé ; the second, between Ville Vallouise and Villar d'Arène(on the Lautaret road) via Claux and the glaciers Blanc andd'Arsine, — the Col du Glacier Blanc ; and the third, from Vallouiseto La Bérarde, via the Glacier Blanc, the Glacier de l'Encula, andthe Glacier de la Bonne Pierre, the Col des Ecrins.This last pass was discovered accidentally. Mr. Tuckett set outintending to endeavour to ascend the Pointe des Ecrins, but circumstanceswere against him, as he relates in the following words :—" Arrived on the plateau " (of the Glacier de l'Encula), " a moststriking view of the Ecrins burst upon us, and a hasty inspectionencouraged us to hope that its ascent would be practicable. Onthe sides of La Bérarde and the Glacier Noir it presents, as hasbeen already stated, the most precipitous and inaccessible facesthat can well be conceived ; but in the direction of the Glacierde l'Encula, as the upper plateau of the Glacier Blanc is namedon the French map, the slopes are less rapid, and immense massesof névé and séracs cover it nearly to the summit."" The snow was in very bad order, and as we sank at each stepabove the knee, it soon became evident that our prospects ofsuccess were extremely doubtful. A nearer approach, too, disclosedtraces of fresh avalanches, and after much deliberation anda careful examination through the telescope, it was decided thatthe chances in our favour were too small to render it desirableto waste time in the attempt. ... I examined the map, fromwhich I perceived that the glacier seen through the gap " (in theridge running from Roche Faurio to the Ecrins) " to the west, at agreat depth below, must be that of La Bonne Pierre; and if adescent to its head was practicable, a passage might probably beeffected to La Bérarde. On suggesting to Croz and Perm that,though baffled by the state of the snow on the Ecrins, we might

152 TBE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. vni.still achieve something of interest and importance by discovering anew col, they both heartily assented, and in a few minutes Permwas over the edge, and cutting his way down the rather formidablecouloir," etc. etc.*This was the couloir at the foot of which we found ourselves atdaybreak on the 25th of June 1864; but before commencing therelation of our doings upon that eventful day, I must recount theexperiences of Messrs. Mathews and Bonney in 1862.These gentlemen, with the two Croz's, attempted the ascent ofthe Ecrins a fow weeks after Mr. Tuckett had inspected the mountain.On August 26, says Mr. Bonney, " we pushed on, and ourhopes each moment rose higher and higher; even the cautiousMichel committed himself so far as to cry, 'Ah, malheureuxEcrins, vous serez bientôt morts,' as we addressed ourselves tothe last slope leading up to the foot of the final cone. The oldproverb about ' many a slip ' was, however, to prove true on thisoccasion. Arrived at the top of this slope, we found that we werecut off from the peak by a formidable bergschrund, crossed by therottenest of snow-bridges. We looked to the right and to the left,to see whether it would be possible to get on either arête at itsextremity ; but instead of rising directly from the snow as theyappeared to do from below, they were terminated by a wall ofrock some forty feet high. There was but one place where thebergschrund was narrow enough to admit of crossing, and there acliff of ice had-to be climbed, and then a path to be cut up a steepslope of snow, before the arête could be reached. At last, aftersearching in vain for some time, Michel bade us wait a little, andstarted off to explore the gap separating the highest peak from thesnow-dome on the right, and see if it were possible to ascend therocky wall. Presently he appeared, evidently climbing withdifficulty, and at last stood on the arête itself. Again we thoughtthe victory was won, and started off to follow him. Suddenly hocalled to us to halt, and turned to descend. In a few minutes he* Alpine Journal, Dec. 18G3.

CHAP. vin. FIRST ATTEMPT TO ASCEND THE ECRINS. 133stopped. After a long pause he shouted to his brother, saying thathe was not able to return by the way he had ascended. Jean wasevidently uneasy about him, and for some time we watched himwith much anxiety. At length he began to hew out steps in thesnow along the face of the peak towards us. Jean now left us,and, making for the ice-cliff mentioned above, chopped away until,after about a quarter of an hour's labour, he contrived, somehow orother, to worm himself up it, and began to cut steps to meet hisbrother. Almost every step appeared to be cut right through thesnowy crust into the hard ice below, and an incipient stream ofsnow came hissing down the sides of the.peak as they dug it awaywith their axes. Michel could not have been much more than100 yards from us, and yet it was full three quarters of an hourbefore the brothers met. This done, they descended carefully,burying their axe-heads deep in the snow at every step." Michel's account was that he had reached the arête with greatdifficulty, and saw that it was practicable for some distance, infact, as far as he could see ; but that the snow was in a mostdangerous condition, being very incoherent and resting on hardice ; that when he began to descend in order to tell us this, hefound the rocks so smooth and slippery that return was impossible ;and that for some little time he feared that he should not be ableto extricate himself, and was in considerable danger. Of coursethe arête could have been reached by the way our guides haddescended, but it was so evident that their judgment was againstproceeding, that .we did not feel justified in urging them on. Wehad seen so much of them that we felt sure they would neverhang back unless there was real danger, and so we gave the wordfor retreating." *On both of these expeditions there was fine weather and plentyof time. On each occasion the parties slept out at, and startedfrom, a considerable elevation, and arrived at the base of thefinal peak of the Ecrins early in the day, and with plenty of* Alpine Journal, June 18G3.

154 TUE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERHORN. CHAP. VIII.superfluous energy. Guides and travellers alike, on each occasion,were exceptional men, experienced mountaineers, who had provedtheir skill and courage on numerous antecedent occasions, and whowere not accustomed to turn away from a thing merely becauseit was difficult. On each occasion the attempts were abandonedbecause the state of the snow on and below the final peak wassuch that avalanches were anticipated ; and, according to the judgmentof those who were concerned, there was such an amount ofpositive danger from this condition of things, that it was unjustifiableto persevere.Wo learnt privatoly, from Messrs. Mathews, Bonney, andTuckett, that unless the snow was in a good state upon the finalpeak (that is to say, coherent and stable), we should probably be ofthe same opinion as themselves ; and that, although the face of themountain fronting the Glacier de l'Encula was much less steepthan its other faces, and was apparently the only side upon whichan attempt was at all likely to be successful, it was, nevertheless,so steep, that for several days, at least, after a fall of snow upon it,the chances in favour of avalanches would be considerable.The reader need scarcely be told, after all that has been saidabout me variableness of weather in the High Alps, the chance wassmall indeed that, we should find upon the 25th of June, or anyother set day, the precise condition of affairs that was deemed indispensablefor success. We had such confidence in the judgmentof our friends, that it was understood amongst us theascent should be abandoned, unless the conditions were manifestlyfavourable.By five minutes to six we were at the top of the gully (a firstratecouloir, about 1000 feet high), and within sight of our work.Hard, thin, and wedge-liko as the Ecrins had looked from afar,it had never looked so hard and so thin as it did when we emergedfrom the top of the couloir through tho gap in the ridge. Notender shadows spoke of broad and rounded ridges, bnt sharpand shadowless its serrated edges stood out against the clear

CHAP. vin. A NEAR VIEW OF THE ECRINS. 155and notched in numberless places. They reminded me of myfailure on the Dent d'Hérens in 1863, and of a place on a similarridge, from which advance or retreat was alike difficult. But,presuming one or other of these ridges or arêtes was practicable,there remained the task of getting to them, for completely roundthe base of the final peak swept an enormous bergschrund, almostseparating it from the slopes which lay beneath. It was evidentthus early that the ascent would not be accomplished withoutexertion, and that it would demand all our faculties and all ourtime. In more than one respect we were favoured. The mistswere gone, the day was bright and perfectly calm ; there hadbeen a long stretch of fine weather beforehand, and the snowwas in excellent order; and, most important of all, the lastnew snow which had fallen on the final peak, unable to supportitself, had broken away and rolled in a mighty avalanche, overschrund, névé, séracs, over hills and valleys in the glacier* Tin- above view of tli

156 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. VIII.(levelling one and filling the other), completely down to thesummit of the Col des Ecrins, where it lay in huge jammed masses,powerless to harm us ; and had made a broad track, almost aroad, over which, for part of the way at least, we might advancewith rapidity.We took in all this in a few minutes, and seeing there was notime to be lost, despatched a hasty meal, left knapsacks, provisions,and all incumbrances by the Col, started again at half-past six, andmade direct for the left side of the schrund, for it was there alonethat a passage was practicable. We crossed it at 8.10. Our routecan now be followed upon the annexed outline. The arrow marked Dpoints out the direction of theGlacier de la Bonne Pierre. Theridge in front, that extendsright across, is the ridge thatis partially shown on the topof the map at p. 146, leadingfrom Roche Faurio towardsthe W.N.W. We arrived upon the plateau of the Glacier del'Encula, behind this ridge, from the direction of D, and then madea nearly straight track to the left hand of the bergschrund at A.Thus far there was no trouble, but the nature of the workchanged immediately. If we regard the upper 700 feet alone ofthe final peak of the Ecrins, it may be described as a three-sidedpyramid. One face is towards the Glacier Noir, and forms one» of the sheerest precipices in the Alps. Another is towards theGlacier du Vallon, and is less steep, and less uniform in angle thanthe first. The third is towards the Glacier de l'Encula, and it wasby this one we approached the summit. Imagine a triangularplane, 700 or 800 feet high, set at an angle exceeding 50' ; letit be smooth, glassy ; let the uppermost edges be cut into spikesand teeth, and let them be bent, some one way, some another.Let the glassy face be covered with minute fragments of rock,scarcely attached, but varnished with ice ; imagine this, and then

CHAP. vin. OUR ASCENT OF TBE FINAL PEAK. 157you will have a very faint idea of the face of the Ecrins on whichwe stood. It was not possible to avoid detaching stones, which, asthey fell, cause words unmentionable to rise. The greatest friendswould have reviled each other in such a situation. We gained theeastern arête, and endeavoured for half-an-hour to work upwardstowards the summit ; but it was useless (each yard of progress costan incredible time) ; and having no desire to form the acquaintanceof the Glacier Noir in a precipitate manner, we beat a retreat, andreturned to the schrund. We again held a council, and it wasunanimously decided that we should be beaten if we could not cutalong the.upper edge of the schrund, and, when nearly beneath thesummit, work up to it. So Croz took off his coat and went towork ;—on ice,—not that black ice so often mentioned and so seldomseen, but on ice as hard as ice could be. Weary work for theguides. Croz cut for more than half-an-hour, and we did not seemto have advanced at all. Some one behind, seeing how great thelabour was, and how slow the progress, suggested that after all wemight do better on the arête. Croz's blood was up, and indignantat this slight on his powers, he ceased working, turned in his steps,and rushed towards me with a haste that made me shudder : " Byall means let us go there, the sooner the better." No slight wasintended, and he resumed his work, after a time being relieved byAimer. Half-past ten came ; an hour had passed ; they were stillcutting. Dreary work for us, for no capering about could be donehere ; hand as well as foot holes were necessary ; the fingers andtoes got very cold ; the ice, as it boomed in bounding down thebergschrund, was very suggestive ; conversation was very restricted,separated as we were by our tether of 20 feet apiece. Anotherhour passed. We were now almost immediately below the summit,and we stopped to look up. We were nearly as far off it (vertically)as we had been more than three hours before. The day seemedgoing against us. The only rocks near at hand were scattered ;no bigger than tea-cups, and most of these, we found afterwards,were glazed with ice. Time forbade cutting right up to the

158 TBE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. VIII.summit, even had it been possible, which it was not. We decidedto go up to tho ridge again by means of the rocks ; but had we nothad a certain confidence in each other, it unquestionably would nothave been done ; for this, it must be understood, was a situationwhere not only might a slip have been fatal to every one, but itwould have been so beyond doubt : nothing, moreover, was easierthan to make one. It was a place where all had to work in unison,where there must be no slackening of the rope, and no unnecessarytension. For another hour we were in this trying situation, andat 12.30 we gained the arête again at a much higher point (B),close to the summit. Our men were, I am afraid, well-nigh wornout. Cutting up a couloir 1000 feet high was not the right sortof preparation for work of this kind. Be it so or not, we were allglad to rest for a short time, for we had not sat down a minutesince leaving the col six hours before. Aimer, however, was restless,knowing that midday was past, and that much remained tobe accomplished, and untied himself, and commenced workingtowards the summit. Connecting the teeth of rock were beds ofsnow, and Aimer, only a few feet from me, was crossing the top ofone of these, when suddenly, without a moment's warning, it brokeaway under him, and plunged down on to the glacier. As hestaggered for a second, one foot in the act of stepping, and theother on the falling mass, I thought him lost ; but he happily fellon to the right side and stopped himself. Had he taken the stepwith his right instead of the left foot, he would, in all probability,have fallen several hundred feet without touching anything, andwould not have been arrested before reaching the glacier, a verticaldistance of at least 3000 feet.Small, ridiculously small, as the distance was to the summit, wewe're occupied nearly another hour before it was gained. Aimerwas a few feet in front, and he, with characteristic modesty, hesitatedto step on the highest point, and drew back to allow us topass. A cry was raised for Croz, who had done the chief part ofthe work, but he declined tho honour, and we marched on to the

CHAP. VIII. ON SPLINTERS FROM SUMMITS. 159top simultaneously ; that is to say, clustered round it, a yard ortwo below, for it was much too small to get upon.According to my custom, I bagged a piece from off the highestrock (chlorite slate), and I found afterwards that it had a strikingsimilarity to the final peak of the Ecrins. I have noticed the samething on other occasions,*and it is worthy of remarkthat not only do fragmentsof such rock as limestoneoften present the characteristicforms of the cliffs fromwhich they have been broken.but that morsels of mica slatewill represent, in a wonderfulmanner, the identicalshape of the peaks of whichthey have formed part. Whyshould it not be so if themountain's mass is more or«ACMEXTFKOM THE SUMMIT OF THE POINTEDES ECRINS.less homogeneous? The samecauses which produce the small forms fashion the large ones ; thesame influences are at work ; the same frost and rain give shapeto the mass as well as to its parts.Did space permit me, I could give a very poor idea of the view,but it will be readily imagined that a panorama extending over asmuch ground as the whole of England is one worth taking sometrouble to see, and one which is not often to be seen even in theAlps. No clouds obscured it, and a list of the summits that we sawwould include nearly all the highest peaks of the chain. I saw thePelvoux now—as I had seen the Ecrins from it three years before—across the basin of the Glacier Noir. It is a splendid mountain,although in height it is equalled, if not surpassed, by its neighbourthe Aléfroide.* The most striking example which has come under my notice ia referred to inChapter XIX.

160 TBE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. VIII.. We could stay on the summit only a short time, and at a quarterto two prepared for the descent. Now, as we looked down, andthought of what we had passed over in coming up, we one and allhesitated about returning the same way. Moore said, no. Walkersaid the same, and I too ; the guides were both of the same mind :this, be it remarked, although we had considered that there was nochance whatever of getting up any other way. But those ' lastrocks ' were not to be forgotten. Had they only protruded to amoderate extent, or had they been merely glazed, we should doubtlessstill have tried : but they were not reasonable rocks,—they•would neither allow us to hold, nor would do it themselves. Sowe turned to the western arête, trusting to luck that we shouldfind a way down to the schrund, and some means of getting over itafterwards. Our faces were a tolerable index to our thoughts, andapparently the thoughts of the party were not happy ones. Hadany one then said to me, " You are a great fool for coming here," Ishould have answered with humility, " It is, too true." And hadmy monitor gone on to say, " Swear you will never ascend anothermountain if you get down safely," I am inclined to think I shouldhave taken the oath. In fact, the game here was not worth therisk. The guides felt it as well as ourselves, and as Aimer led off,he remarked, with more piety than logic, " The good God hasbrought us up, and he will take us down in safety," which showedpretty well what he was thinking about.The ridge down which we now endeavoured to make our waywas not inferior in difficulty to the other. But were serrated toan extent that made it impossible to keep strictly to them, andobliged us to descend occasionally for some distance on the northernface and then mount again. Both were so rotten that the mostexperienced of our party, as well as the least, continually upsetblocks large and small. Both arêtes were so narrow, so thin, thatit was often a matter for speculation on which side an unstableblock would fall.At one point it seemed that we should be obliged to return to

CHAP. vin. LE JEU NE VAUT PAS LA CHANDELLE. 161the summit and try the other way down. We were on the veryedge of the arête. On one side was the enormous precipice facingthe Pelvoux, which is not far from perpendicular ; on the other aslope exceeding 50°. A deep notch brought us to an abrupt halt.Aimer, who was leading, advanced cautiously to the edge on handsand knees, and peered over ; his care was by no means unnecessary,for the rocks had broken away from under us unexpectedly severaltimes. In this position he gazed down for some moments, andthen, without a word, turned his head and looked at us. His facemay have expressed apprehension or alarm, but it certainly did notshow hope or joy. We learned that there was no means of gettingdown, and that we must, if we wanted to pass the notch, jumpacross on to an unstable block on the other side. It was decidedthat it should be done, and Aimer, with a larger extent of ropethan usual, jumped. The rock swayed as he came down upon it,but he clutched a large mass with both arms and brought himselfto anchor. That which was both difficult and dangerous for thefirst man was easy enough for the others, and we got across withless trouble than I expected ; stimulated by Croz's perfectly justobservation, that if we couldn't get across there we were notlikely to get down the other way.We had now arrived at c, and could no longer continue on thearête, so we commenced descending the face again. Before longwe were close to the schrund, but unable to see what it was likeat this part, as the upper edge bent over. Two hours had alreadypassed since leaving the summit, and it began to be highly probablethat we should have to spend a night on the Glacier Blanc. Aimer,who yet led, cut steps right down to the edge, but still he couldnot see below ; therefore, warning us to hold tight, he made hiswhole body rigid, and (standing in the large step which he had cutfor the purpose), had the upper part of his person lowered out untilhe saw what he wanted. He shouted that our work was finished,made me come close to the edge and untie myself, advanced thoothers until he had rope enough, and then with a loud jödel jumpedM

1C2 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. VIII.down on to soft snow. Partly by skill and partly by luck he hadhit the crevasse at its easiest point, and we had only to make adownward jump of eight or ten feet.We had been more than eight hours and a half accomplishingthe ascent of the final peak, which, according to an observation byMr. Bonney in 1862, is only 525 feet high.* During this periodwe had not stopped for more than half-an-hour, and our nerves andmuscles had been kept at the highest degree of tension the wholetime. It may be imagined that we accepted the ordinary conditionsof glacier travelling as an agreeable relief, and that that which atanother time might have seemed formidable we treated as the veriestbagatelle. Late in the day as it was, and soft as was the snow, weput on such pace that we reached the Col des Ecrins in less thanforty minutes. We lost no time in arranging our baggage, for wehad still to traverse a long glacier, and to get clear of two ice-fallsbefore it was dark ; so, at 5.35 we resumed the march, adjourningeating and drinking, and put on a spurt which took us clear of theGlacier Blanc by 7.45 p.M.f We got off the moraine of the GlacierNoir at 8.45, just as the last remnant of daylight vanished. Crozand myself were a trifle in advance of the others, and fortunatelyso for us ; for as they were about to commence the descent of thesnout of tho glacier, the whole of the moraine that rested on itsface peeled off, and came down with a tremendous roar.We had now the pleasure of walking over a plain that isknown by the name of the Pré de Madame Carle, covered withpebbles of all sizes, and intersected by numerous small streamsor torrents. Every hole looked like a stone, every stone like ahole, and wo tumbled about from side to side until our limbs andour tempers became thoroughly jaded. My companions, beingboth short-sighted, found the travelling especially disagreeable ; so* See vol. i., p. 73 of Alpine Journal. We considered tho height assigned to thofinal peak by Mr. Bonney was too small, and thought it should have been 200 feetmore.t The Glacier libine is in the direction indicated by the arrow below the letter Eon the outline on p. 156.

CHAP. vni. THE PLEASURES OF MEMORY. 163there was little wonder that when we came upon a huge mass ofrock as big as a house, which had fallen from the flanks of Pelvoux,a regular cube that offered no shelter whatever, Moore cried out inecstasy, " Oh, how delightful ! the very thing I have been longingfor. Let us have a perfectly extemporaneous bivouac." This,it should be said, was when the night threatened thunder andlightning, rain, and all other delights.The pleasures of a perfectly extemporaneous bivouac underthese circumstances not being novelties to Croz and myself, wethought we would try for the miseries of a roof ; but Walker andAimer, with their usual good nature, declared it was the verything that they, too, were longing for ; so the trio resolved to stop.We generously left them all the provisions (a dozen cubic inches orthereabouts of bacon fat, and half a candle), and pushed on for thechalets of Aléfroide, or at least we thought we did, but could not bocertain. In the course of half-an-hour we got uncommonly closeto the main torrent, and Croz all at once disappeared. I steppedcautiously forward to peer down into the place where I thought hewas, and quietly tumbled head over heels into a big rhododendronbush. Extricating myself with some trouble, I fell backwardsover some rocks, and got wedged in a cleft so close to the torrentthat it splashed all over me.The colloquy which then ensued amid the thundering of thestream was as follows :—" Hullo, Croz ! " " Eh, Monsieur." " Where are you ? " " Here,Monsieur." " Where is here ?" " I don't know ; where are you ? "" Here, Croz ; " and so on.The fact was, from the intense darkness, and the noise of thetorrent, we had no idea of each other's situation. In the courseof ten minutes, however, we joined together again, agreed we hadhad quite enough of that kind of thing, and adjourned to a mosteligible rock at 10.15.How well I remember the night at that rock, and tho jolly wayin which Croz came out ! We were both very wet about the legs,M 2

164 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. vm.and both uncommonly hungry, but the time passed pleasantly. enough round our fire of juniper, and until long past midnight wesat up recounting, over our pipes, wonderful stories of the mostincredible description, in which I must admit, my companion beatme hollow. Then throwing ourselves on our beds of rhododendron,A NIGHT WITH CKOZ.we slept an untroubled sleep, and rose on a bright Sunday morningas fresh as might be, intending to enjoy a day's rest and luxurywith our friends at La Ville de Val Louise.I have failed to give the impression I wish if it has not beenmade evident that the ascent of the Pointe des Ecrins was not anordinary piece of work. There is an increasing disposition nowadaysamongst those who write on the Alps, to underrate the difficultiesand dangers which are met with, and this disposition is, Ithink, not less mischievous than the old-fashioned style of makingeverything terrible. Difficult as we found the peak, I believe we

CHAP. Vili. A WARNING. 165took it at the best, perhaps the only possible, time of the year.The great slope on which we spent so much time was, from beingdenuded by the avalanche of which I have spoken, deprived of itsgreatest danger. Had it had the snow still resting upon it, andhad we persevered with the expedition, we should almost withoutdoubt have ended with calamity instead of success. The ice of thatslope is always below, its angle is severe, and the rocks do notproject sufficiently to afford the support that snow requires, to bestable, when at a great angle. So far am I from desiring to temptany one to repeat the expedition, that I put it on record as mybelief, however sad and however miserable a man may have been,if he is found on the summit of the Pointe des Ecrins after a fallof new snow, he is likely to experience misery far deeper thananything with which he has hitherto been acquainted.** The ascent of the Pointe des Ecrins has been mado several times since 1864.Tho second ascent was made by a French gentleman, named Vincent, with theChamounix guides Jean Carrier and Alexandre Toumier. They followed our route,but reversed it ; that is to say, ascended by the western and descended by theeastern arête.The best course to adopt in future attacks on the mountain, would lie to bring aladder, or some other means of (Kissing the bergschrund, in its centre, immediatelyunder the summit. One could then proceed directly upwards, and so avoid the labourand difficulties which are inevitable upon any ascent by way of the aretes.

CHAPTER IX.FROM VAL LOUISE TO LA BÉRARDE BY THE COL DE TILATTE.*" llow pleasant it is for him who is saved to remember his danger."EtRIPlDES.FKOM Ailefroide to Claux, but for the path, travel would be scarcelymore easy than over the Pré de Madame Carle.* The valley isstrewn with immense masses of gneiss, from the size of a largehouse downwards, and it is only occasionally that rock in situ isseen, so covered up is it by the débris, which seems to have beenderived almost entirely from the neighbouring cliffs.It was Sunday, a " day most calm and bright." Golden sunlighthad dispersed the clouds, and was glorifying the heights,and we forgot hunger through the brilliancy of the morning andbeauty of tho mountains.We meant the 26th to be a day of rest, but it was little that wefound in the cabaret of Claude Giraud, and we fled before the babelof sound which rose in intensity as men descended to a depth whichis unattainable by the beasts of the field, and found at the chaletsof Entraigues t the peace that had been denied to us at Val Louise.* For route, see Map in Chap. VIII.t The path from Ville do Val Louise to Entraigues is good, and well shaded byluxuriant foliage. The valley (d'Entraigues) is narrow ; borderai by fine cliffs ; andclosed at its western end by a noble block of mountains, which looks much higherthan it is. The highest i>oint (the Tic de Bonvoisin) is 11,500 feet. Potatoes, peas,and other vegetables, arc grown at Entraigues (5284 feet), although the situation oftho chalets is bleak, and cut off from the sun.The Combe (or Vallon) de la Selle joins the main valley at Entraigues, anil onecan pass from the former by the little-known Col de Loup (immediately to the south

ciiAP. ix. ARRIVAL OF AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 167Again we were received with the most cordial hospitality.Everything that was eatable or drinkable was brought out andpressed upon us ; every little curiosity was exhibited ; every informationthat could be afforded was given ; and when Ave retiredto our clean straw, we again congratulated each other that we hadescaped from the foul den which is where a good inn should be,and had cast in our lot with those who dwell in chalets. Veryluxurious that straw seemed after two nights upon quartz pebblesand glacier mud, and I felt quite aggrieved (expecting it was thesummons for departure) when, about midnight, the heavy woodendoor creaked on its hinges, and a man hem'd and ha'd to attractattention; but when it whispered, "Monsieur Edvard," I perceivedmy mistake,—it was our Pelvoux companion, MonsieurBeynaud, the excellent agent-voyer of La Bessée.Monsieur Beynaud had been invited to accompany us on theexcursion that is described in this chapter, but had arrived at ValLouise after we had left, and had energetically pursued us duringthe night. Our idea was that a pass might be made over thehigh ridge called (on the French map) Crête do Bœufs Bouges,*near to the peak named Les Bans, and that it might be the shortestroute in time (as it certainly would be in distance) from ValLouise, across the Central Dauphiné Alps. We had seen thenorthern (or Pilatte) side from the Brèche do la Meije, and itseemed to be practicable at one place near the above-mentionedmountain. More than that could not be told at a distance ofeleven miles. We intended to try to hit a point on the ridgeimmediately above the part where it seemed to be easiest.We left Entraigues at 3.30 on the morning of June 27, andproceeded, over very gently-inclined ground, towards the foot ofof the Tic de Bonvoisin) into the Val Godemar. Two other passes, both of considerableheight, lead from the head of (lie Vallon de la Selle into the valleys of Chompoléonand Argentiere.* This, like many other names given to mountains and glaciers on sheet 189, isnot a local name, or, at least, is not one that is in common use.

168 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. IX.the Pic de Bonvoisin (following in fact the route of the Col deSellar, which leads from the Val Louise into the Val Godemar) ;*and at 5 A.M., finding that there was no chance of obtaining a viewfrom tho bottom of the valley of the ridge over which our routewas to bo taken, sent Aimer up the lower slopes of the Bonvoisinto reconnoitre. He telegraphed that we might proceed ; and at5.45 we quitted the snow-beds at the bottom of the valley forthe slopes which rose towards the north.The course was N.N.W., and was prodigiously steep. In less thantwo miles' difference of latitude we rose one mile of absolute height.But tho route was so far from being an exceptionally difficult one,that at 10.45 we stood on the summit of the pass, having made anascent of more than 5000 feet in five hours, inclusive of halts.Upon sheet 189 of the French map a glacier is laid down onthe south of the Crête des Bœufs Bouges, extending along theentire length of the ridge, at its foot, from east to west. In 1864this glacier did not exist as one glacier, but in the place where itshould have been there were several small ones, all of which were,I believe, separated from each other, tWe commenced the ascent from the Val d'Entraigues, to thewest of the most western of these small glaciers, and quitted thevalley by the first great gap in its cliffs after that glacier waspassed. We did not take to the ice until it afforded an easier routethan the rocks ; then (8.30) Croz went to the front, and led withadmirable skill through a maze of crevasses up to the foot of agreat snow couloir, that rose from the head of the glacier to thesummit of the ridge over which we had to pass.We had settled beforehand in London, without knowing any-* The height of the Col do Sellar (or de Celar) is 10,073 feet (Forbes). I wastold by peasants at Entraigues that sheep and goats can be easily taken across it.t Sco map on p. 146. It is perhaps just possible, although improbable, that theselittle glaciers were united together at tho time that tho survey was made. Sincethen the glaciers of Dauphiné (as throughout the Alps generally) have shrunk veryconsiderably. A notable diminution took place in their size in 1869, which wasattributed by the natives to the very heavy rains of that year.

CHAP. IX. ON SNOW COULOIRS. 16!)thing whatever about theplace, that such a couloiras this should be in thisangle ; but when we gotinto the Val d'Entraigues,and found that it was notpossible to see into thecorner, our faith in itsexistence became less andless, until the telegraphingof Aimer, who wassent up the oppositeslopes to search for it,assured us that we weretrue prophets.Snow couloirs are nothingmore or less thangullies partly filled bysnow. They are most usefulinstitutions, and maybe considered as naturalhighways placed, by akind Providence, in convenientsituations for gettingover places whichwould otherwise be inac-* - ^ r fA SNOW COULOIR.*A rMfl.\ 1-,

170 THE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. IS.cessible. They are a joy to the mountaineer, and, from afar,assure him of a path when all beside is uncertain; but they aregrief to novices, who, when upon steep snow, are usually seizedwith two notions—first, that the snow will slip, and secondly,that those who are upon it must slip too.Nothing, perhaps, could look much more unpromising to thosewho do not know the virtues of couloirs than such a place as theengraving represents,* and if persons inexperienced in mountaincraft had occasion to cross a ridge or to climb rocks, in which therewere such couloirs, they would instinctively avoid them. Butpractised mountaineers would naturally look to them for a path,and would follow them almost as a matter of course, unless theyturned out to be filled with ice, or too much swept by fallingstones, or the rock at the sides proved to be of such an exceptionalcharacter as to afford an easier path than the snow.Couloirs look prodigiously steep when seen from the front, and,so viewed, it is impossible to be certain of their inclination withinmany degrees. Snow, however, does actually lie at steeper anglesin couloirs than in any other situations;—45° to 50° degrees isnot an uncommon inclination. Even at such angles, two menwith proper axes can mount on snow at the rate of 700 to 800 feetper hour. The same amount can only be accomplished in thesame time on steep rocks when they are of the very easiest character,and four or five hours may be readily spent upon an equalheight of difficult rocks. Snow couloirs are therefore to be commendedbecause they economise time.Of course, in all gullies, one is liable to be encountered by fallingstones. Most of those which fall from the rocks of a couloir,sooner or later spin down the snow which fills the trough ; and, astheir course and pace are more clearly apparent when falling oversnow than when jumping from ledge to ledge, persons with lively* This drawing was made to illustrate the remarks whieli follow. It does not representany particiliar couloir, though it would serve, tolerably well, as a portrait ofthe one which we ascended when crossing the Col de l'ilatte.

CHAP. IX. MONSIEUR REYNAUD. 171imaginations are readily impressed by them. The grooves whichare usually seen wandering down the length of snow couloirs aredeepened (and, perhaps, occasionally originated) by falling stones,and they are sometimes pointed out by cautious men as reasonswhy couloirs should not be followed. I think they are very frequentlyonly gutters, caused by water trickling off the rocks.Whether this is so or not, one should always consider the possibilityof being struck by falling stones, and, in order to lessen therisk as far as possible, should mount upon the sides of the snow,and not up its centre. Stones.that come off the rocks will thengenerally fly over one's head, or bound down the middle of thetrough at a safe distance.At 9.30 A.M. we commenced the ascent of the couloir leadingfrom the nameless glacier to a point in the ridge, just to the eastof Mont Bans.* So far the route had been nothing more than asteep grind in an angle where little could be seen, but now viewsopened out in several directions, and the way began to be interesting.It was more so, perhaps, to us than to our companion M.Beynaud, who had no rest in the last night. He was, moreover,heavily, laden. Science was to be regarded—his pockets werestuffed with books ; heights and angles were to be observed—hisknapsack was filled with instruments ; hunger was to be guardedagainst—his shoulders were ornamented with a huge nimbus ofbread, and a leg of mutton swung behind from his knapsack, lookinglike an overgrown tail. Being a good-hearted fellow, he hadbrought this food, thinking we might be in need of it. As it happened,we were well provided for, and having our own packs tocarry, could not relieve him of his superfluous burdens, which,naturally, he did not like to throw away. As the angles steepened,the strain on his strength became more and more apparent. Atlast he began to groan. At first a most gentle and mellow groan ;* The upper part of the southern siilo of the Col de l'ilatte, and the small glaciersspoken of on p. 168, can lie seen from tho'high road leading from Briançon to MontDauphin, lietween the 12th and 13th kilomètre stones (from Briançon).

172 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. IX.but as wo rose so did his groans, till at last the cliffs were groaningin echo, and we were moved to laughter.Croz cut the way with unflagging energy throughout the wholeof the ascent, and at 10.45 we stood on the summit of our pass,intending to refresh ourselves with a good halt. Unhappily, at thatmoment a mist, which had been playing about the ridge, swoopeddown and blotted out the whole of the view on the northern side.Croz was the only one who caught a glimpse of the descent, andit was deemed advisable to push on immediately, while its recollectionwas fresh in his memory. We are consequently unableto tell anything about the summit of the pass, except that itlies immediately to the east of Mont Bans, and is elevated about11,300 feet above the level of the sea. It is the highest pass inDauphiné. We called it the Col de Pilatte.We commenced to descend towards the Glacier de Pilatte by aslope of smooth ice, the face of which, according to the measurementof Mr. Moore, had an inclination of 54° ! Croz still led, andthe others followed at intervals of about 15 feet, all being tiedtogether, and Aimer occupying the responsible position of lastman. The two guides were therefore about 70 feet apart. Theywere quite invisible to each other from the mist, and looked spectraleven to us. But the strong man could be heard by all hewing outthe steps below, while every now and then the voice of the steadyman pierced the cloud,—" Slip not, dear sirs ; place well your feet :stir not until you are certain."For three quarters of an hour we progressed in this fashion.The axe of Croz all at once stopped. " What is the matter, Croz ?"" Bergschrund, gentlemen." " Can we get over ?" " Upon myword, I don't know ; I think we must jump." The clouds rolledaway right and left as he spoke. The effect was dramatic ! It wasa coup de théâtre, preparatory to the ' great sensation leap ' whichwas about to be executed by the entire company.Some unseen cause, some cliff or obstruction in the rocksunderneath, had caused our wall of ice to split into two portions,

CHAP. IX. REYNAUD COMES OVER THE SCHRUND. 17:5and the huge fissure which had thus been formed extended, on eachhand, as far as could be seen. We, on the slope above, were separatedfrom the slope below by a mighty crevasse. No running upand down to look for an easier place to cross could be done on anice-slope of 54° ; the chasm had to be passed then and there.A downward jump of 15 or 16 feet, and a forward leap of 7 or 8feet had to be made at the same time. That is not much, you willsay. It was not much ; it was not the quantity, but it was thequality of the jump which gave to it its particular flavour. Youhad to hit a narrow ridge of ice. If that was passed, it seemed asif you might roll down for ever and ever. If it was not attained,you dropped into the crevasse below; which, although partly chokedby icicles and snow that had fallen from above, was still gaping inmany places, ready to receive an erratic body.Croz untied Walker in order to get rope enough, and warning usto hold fast, sprang over the chasm. He alighted cleverly on hisfeet ; untied himself and sent up the rope to Walker, who followedhis example. It was then my turn, and I advanced to the edge ofthe ice. The second which followed was what is called a suprememoment. That is to say, I felt supremely ridiculous. The worldseemed to revolve at a frightful pace,and my stomach to flyaway.The next moment I found myself sprawling in the snow, and then,of course, vowed that it was nothing, and prepared to encouragemy friend Beynaud.He came to the edge and made declarations. I do not believethat he was a whit more reluctant to pass the place than we others,but he was infinitely more demonstrative,—in a word, he wasFrench. He wrung his hands, " Oh ! what a diable of a place ! "" It is nothing, Beynaud," I said, " it is nothing." " Jump," criedthe others, "jump." But he turned round, as far as one can dosuch a thing in an ice-step, and covered his face with his hands,ejaculating, " Upon my word, it is not possible. No ! no ! ! no ! ! !it is not possible."How he came over I do not know. We saw a toe—it seemed

174 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP, IX,to belong to Moore ; we saw Beynaud a flying body, coming downas if taking a header into water ; with arms and legs all abroad, hisleg of mutton flying in the air, his bâton escaped from his grasp ;and then we heard a thud as if a bundle of carpets had beenpitched out of a window. When set upon his feet he was a sorryspectacle ; his head was a great snowball ; brandy was tricklingout of one side of the knapsack, chartreuse out of the other—webemoaned its loss, but we roared with laughter.This chapter has already passed the limits within, which itshould have been confined, but I cannot close it without payingtribute to the ability with which Croz led us, through a densemist, down the remainder of the Glacier de Pilatte. As an exhibitionof strength and skill, it has probably never been surpassedin the Alps or elsewhere. On this almost unknown and very steepglacier, he was perfectly at home, even in the mists. Never ableto see fifty feet ahead, he still went on with the utmost certainty,and without having to retrace a single step ; and displayed fromfirst to last consummate knowledge of the materials with which hewas dealing. Now he cut steps down one side of a sérac, went witha dash at the other side, and hauled us up after him ; then cut awayalong a ridge until a point was gained from which we conld jumpon to another ridge ; then, doubling back, found a snow-bridge,across wliich he crawled on hands and knees, towed us across bythe legs, ridiculing our apprehensions, mimicking our awkwardness,declining all help, bidding us only to follow him.About 1 P.M. we emerged from the mist and found ourselvesjust arrived upon the level portion of the glacier, having, as Beynaudproperly remarked, come down as quickly as if there had notbeen any mist at all. Then we attacked the leg of mutton whichmy friend had so thoughtfully brought with him, and afterwardsraced down, with renewed energy, to La Bérarde.Beynaud and I walked together to St. Christophe, where weparted. Since then we have talked over the doings of this

CUAP. ix. TUE LAST OF DAUPHINÉ. 175momentous day ; and I know that he would not, for a good deal,have missed the passage of the Col de Pilatte, although we failedto make it an easier or a shorter route than the Col du Selé. Irejoined Moore and Walker, the same evening, at Venos, and onthe next day went with them over the Lautaret road to the hospiceon its summit, where we slept.So our little campaign in Dauphiné came to an end. It wasremarkable for the absence of failures, and for the ease and precisionwith which all our plans were carried out. This was duevery much to the spirit of my companions ; but it was also owingto the fine weather which we were fortunate enough to enjoy, andto our making a very early start every morning. By beginningour work at or before the break of day, on the longest days in theyear, we were not only able to avoid hurrying when deliberationwas desirable, but could afford to spend several hours in delightfulease whenever the fancy seized us.I cannot too strongly recommend to tourists in search ofamusement to avoid the inns of Dauphiné. Sleep in the chalets.Get what food you can from the inns, but do not as a rule attemptto pass nights in them.* Sleep in them you cannot. M. Joannesays that the inventor of the insecticide powder was a native ofDauphiné. I can well believe it. He must have often felt thenecessity of such an invention in his infancy and childhood.On June 29 I crossed the Col du Galibier to St. Michel ;on the 30th, the Col des Encombres to Moutiers ; on July 1, theCol du Bonhomme to Contamines ; and on the 2d, by the Pavilionde Bellevue to Chamounix, where I joined Mr. Adams-Beillyto take part in some expeditions which had been planned longbefore.* Since tho above paragraphs were first printed, there has been some improvementin Dauphiné in respect to the inns ; and there is now at I-a Villo de Val Louise avery decent little auberge called the Hôtel Pelvoux, kept by 51. Gauthier.

CHAPTEE X.THE FIRST PASSAGE OF THE COL DE TRIOLET, AND FIRST ASCENTSOF MONT DOLENT, AIGUILLE DE TKÉLATÊTE, AND AIGUILLED'ARGENTIÈRE." Nothing binds men so closely together as agreement in plans and desires."CICERO.A FEW years ago not many persons knew from personal knowledgehow extremely inaccurately the chain of Mont Blanc wasdelineated. In the earlier part of the century thousands had madethe tour of the chain, and before the year 1860 at least one thousandindividuals had stood upon its highest summit ; but out ofall this number there was not one capable, willing, or able, to mapthe mountain which, until recently, was regarded the highest inEurope.Many persons knew that great blunders had been perpetrated,and it was notorious that even Mont Blanc itself was representedin a ludicrously incorrect manner on all sides excepting the north ;but there was not, perhaps, a single individual who knew, at thetime to which I refer, that errors of no less than 1000 feet hadbeen committed in the determination of heights at each end of thechain ; that some glaciers were represented of double their realdimensions ; and that ridges and mountains were laid down whichactually had no existence.One portion alone of the entire chain had been surveyed atthe time of which I speak with anything like accuracy. It wasnot done (as one would have expected) by a Government, butby a private individual,—by the British De Saussure,—the lateJ. D. Forbes. In the year 1842. he " made a special survey of the

CHAP. x. MAPS OF MONT BLANC. 177Mer de Glace of Chamounix and its tributaries, which, in some ofthe following years, he extended by further observations, so as toinclude the Glacier des Bossons." The map produced from thissurvey was worthy of its author ; and subsequent explorers ofthe region he investigated have been able to detect only trivialinaccuracies in his work.In 1861, Sheet xxii. of Dufour's Map of Switzerland appeared.It included the section of the chain of Mont Blanc that belongedto Switzerland, and this portion of the sheet was executed with theadmirable fidelity and thoroughness which characterise the wholeof Dufour's unique map. The remainder of the chain (amountingto about four-fifths of the whole) was laid down after the workof previous topographers, and its wretchedness was made moreapparent by contrast with the finished work of the Swiss surveyors.In 1863, Mr. Adams-Beilly, who had been travelling in theAlps during several years, resolved to attempt a survey of theunsurveyed portions of the chain of Mont Blanc. He provided himselfwith a good theodolite, and starting from a base-line measuredby Forbes in the Valley of Chamounix, determined the positions ofno less than 200 points. The accuracy of his work may be judgedfrom the fact that, after having turned many corners and carriedhis observations over a distance of fifty miles, his Col Ferret " fellwithin 200 yards of the position assigned to it by General Dufour ! "In the winter of 1863 and the spring of 1864, Mr. Beilly constructedan entirely original map from his newly-acquired data.The spaces between his trigonometrically determined points hefilled in after photographs, and a series of panoramic sketches whichhe made from his different stations. Tho map so produced wasan immense advance upon those already in existence, and it wasthe first which exhibited the great peaks in their proper positions.This extraordinary piece of work revealed Mr. Beilly to me asa man of wonderful determination and perseverance. With verysmall hope that my proposal would be accepted, I invited himto take part in renewed attacks on the Matterhorn. He enteredx

178 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. X.heartily into my plans, and met me with a counter-proposition,namely, that I should accompany him on some expeditions whichhe had projected in the chain of Mont Blanc. The unwritten contracttook this form :—I will help you to carry out your desires, andyou shall assist me to carry out mine. I eagerly closed with anarrangement in which all the advantages were upon my side.At the time that Mr. Beilly was carrying on his survey, CaptainMieulet was executing another in continuation of the great map ofFrance ; for about one-half of the chain of Mont Blanc (includingthe whole of the valley of Chamounix) had recently become Frenchonce more. Captain Mieulet was directed to survey up to hisfrontier only, and the sheet which was destined to include hiswork was to be engraved, of course, upon the scale of the rest ofthe map, viz., SOOOO °^ na ture. But upon representations beingmade at head-quarters that it would be of great advantage to extendthe survey as far as Cormayeur, Captain Mieulet was directedto continue his observations into the south (or Italian) side ofthe chain. A special sheet on the scale of ^Oo0() was promptlyengraved from the materials he accumulated, and was publishedin 1865, by order of the late Minister of War, Marshal Bandon.*This sheet was admirably executed, but it included the centralportion of the chain only, and a complete map was still wanting.Mr. Beilly presented his MS. map to the English Alpine Club.It was resolved that it should be published ; but before it passedinto tho engraver's hands its author undertook to revise it carefully.To this end he planned a number of expeditions to high pointswhich up to that time had been regarded inaccessible, and uponsome of these ascents he invited me to accompany him. BeforeI pass on to these expeditions, it will be convenient to devote afew lines to the topography of the chain of Mont Blanc.At the present time the chain is divided betwixt France,Switzerland, and Italy. France has the lion's share, Switzerland* Under the title of Massif du Mont Blanc, extrait des minutes de la Carte de France,leré par M. Mieulet, Capitaine d'Etat Major.

CHAP. X. THE CHAIN OF MONT BLANC. 179the most fertile portion, and Italy the steepest side. It has acquireda reputation which is not extraordinary, but which is not whollymerited. It has neither the beauty of the Oberland, not thesublimity of Dauphiné. It attracts the vulgar by the possessionof the highest summit in the Alps. If that is removed, theelevation of the chain is in nowise remarkable. In fact, excludingMont Blanc itself, the mountains of which the. chain is madeup are less important than those of the Oberland and the centralPennine groups. The following table will afford a ready meansof comparison*.1. Mont Blanc2. Grandes Jorasses .3. Aiguille Verte . .4. „ de Bionnassay5. Les Droites6. Aiguille du Géant •7. de Trélatète, No. 112>», ,, »»_ " j8.9.10.11.„„„„d'Argentièrede Trioletdu Midi .du Glacier12. Mont Dolent13. Aiguille du Chardonnet .-14. „ . du Dru. .15.16.17.18.„„„„de Miage.du Plan .de Blaiticredes CharmofcMètres.48104206412740614030401039323904389639013879384338343830382338153680367335333442Eng. feetf= 15,781'. Ì3.800. 13,540. 13,324. 13,222. 13,157. 12,900. 12,809. 12,782. 12,799. 12,726. 12,608. 12,579. 12,566. 12,543. 12,517. 12,074. 12,051. 11,591. 11,293The frontier-linè follows the main ridge. Very little of it canbe seen from the Valley of Chamounix, and from the village itselftwo small strips only are visible (amounting to scarcely three miles* Tho heights (in metres) aro after Captain Mieulet.t Some of theso heights have no business to figure in a list of the principal peaksof the chain, being nothing moro than teeth or pinnacles in ridges, or portions ofhigher mountains. Such, for example, are the Aiguilles du Géant, du Dm, and deIHonnassay.N 2

180 THE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. X.in length)—viz. from the summit of Mont Blanc to the Dôme duGoûter, and in the neighbourhood of the Col de Balme. All therest is concealed by outlying ridges and by mountains of secondaryimportance.Mont Blanc itself is bounded by the two glaciers of Miage, theglaciers de la Brenva and du Géant, the Val Veni and the Valleyof Chamounix. A long ridge runs out towards the N.N.E. fromthe summit, through Mont Maudit, to the Aiguille du Midi.Another ridge proceeds towards the N.W., through the Bosse duDromadaire to the Dôme du Goûter ; this then divides into two,of which one continues N.W. to the Aiguille du Goûter, and theother (which is a part of the main ridge of the chain) towardsthe W. to the Aiguille de Bionnassay. The two routes which arecommonly followed for the ascent of Mont Blanc lie betweenthese two principal ridges—one leading from Chamounix, via the.Grands Mulets, the other from the village of Bionnassay, via theAiguille and Dôme du Goûter.The ascent of Mont Blanc has been made from several directionsbesides these, and perhaps there is no single point of thecompass from which the mountain cannot be ascended. But thereis not the least probability that any one will discover easier waysto the summit than those already known.I believe it is correct to say that the Aiguille du Midi and theAiguille de Miage were the only two summits in the chain ofMont Blanc which had been ascended at the beginning of 1864.*The latter of these two is a perfectly insignificant point ; and theformer is only a portion of one of the ridges just now mentioned,and can hardly be regarded as a mountain separate and distinctfrom Mont Blanc. The really great peaks of the chain wereconsidered inaccessible, and, I think, with the exception of theAiguille Verte, had never been assailed.The finest, as well as the highest peak in the chain (afterMont Blanc itself), is the Grandes Jorasses. The next, without a* Besides Mont Blanc itself.

CHAP. x. PEAKS OF TBE CBAIN OF MONT BLANC. 181doubt, is the Aiguille Verte. The Aiguille de Bionnassay, whichin actual height follows the Verte, should be considered as a partof Mont Blanc; and in the same way the summit called LesDroites is only a part of tho ridge which culminates in tho Verte.The Aiguille de Trélatête is the next on the list that is entitledto be considered a separate mountain, and is by far the mostimportant peak (as well as the highest) at the south-west end ofthe chain. Then comes the Aiguille d'Argentière, which occupiesthe same rank at the north-east end as the last-mentioned mountaindoes in the south-west. The rest of the aiguilles are comparativelyinsignificant ; and although some of them (such as theMont Dolent) look well from low elevations, and seem to possessa certain importance, they sink into their proper places directlyone arrives at a considerable altitude.The summit of the Aiguille Verte would have been one of thebest stations out of all these mountains for the purposes of myfriend. Its great height, and its isolated and commanding position,make it a most admirable point for viewing the intricacies of thochain ; but he exercised a wise discretion in passing it by, and inselecting as our first excursion the passage of the Col de Triolet.*We slept under some big rocks on the Couvercle on the nightof July 7, with the thermometer at 26'5 Faht., and at 4.30 on the8th made a straight track to the north of the Jardin, and thencewent in zigzags, to break tho ascent, over the upper slopes of theGlacier de Talèfre towards the foot of the Aiguille de Triolet.Croz was still my guide, Beilly was accompanied by one of thoMichel Payots of Chamounix, and Henri Charlet, of the sameplace, was our porter.The way was over an undulating plain of glacier of moderateinclination until the corner leading to the Col, from whence asteep secondary glacier led down into the basin of the Talèfre.We experienced no difficulty in making the ascent of this secondary* Previous to this we made an attempt to ascend the Aiguille d'Argentiere, andwere defeated by a violent wind when within a hundred feet of the summit,

182 : TBE ASCENT OF TBE MATTEREORN."- CHAP, xlglacier,with such ice-men as Croz and Payot, and at 7.50 A.M.arrived on the top of the so-called pass, at a height, according toMieulet, of 12,162 feet, and 4530 above our camp On the Couvercle;. The descent was commenced by very steep, but firm, rocks,and then by a branch of-the Glacier de Triolet. Schrunds* wereabundant;-there Were no less than five extending completely acrossthe glacier, all of which had to be jumped. Not one was equalin dimensions to the extraordinary chasm on the Col de Pilatte,although in the aggregate they far surpassed it. •" Our lives,"-soBeilly expressed it," were made a burden to us with schrunds."; ^We flattered ourselves that we should arrive at the chalets of Predu Bar very early in the day ; but, owing to much time being lostpn thé slopes of Mont Bouge, it was nearly 4 P.M. before we got tothem. There were no bridges across the torrent nearer than Gruetta,and rather than descend so far, we preferred to round the base ofMont Bouge, and to cross the snout of the Glacier du Mont Dolent.t\ We occupied the 9th with a scramble up Mont Dolent.- ThiswasA miniature ascent. It contained a little of everything. First:we went, up "to the Col Ferret (No, 1), and had a little grind overshaly banks j then there was a.little walk over grass; then a littletramp over a moraine (which, strange to say, gave a pleasantpath) ; then a little zigzagging over the snow-covered glacier of•Mont.Dolent. Then there was a little bergschrund ; then a littlewall of snow,—which we mounted by the side of a little buttress;And when we struck the ridge descending S.E. from the summit,.we found a little arête of snow leading to the highest point. : Thesummit itself was little,—very small indeed; it was the loveliestlittle cone of snow that was ever piled up -on mountain-top ; so* Great crevasses. A bergschrund is a schrund, and something more. " ".'- t The passage of the Col de Triolet from the Couvercle to Prè du Bar occupied 8}hours of actual walking. If the pass had been taken in the contrary direction it would.have consumed a much longer time. It gave a route shorter than any known at thetime between Chamounix and tho St Bernard. As a pass I cannot conscientiouslyrecommend it to any one (see Chap. XVII.), nor am I desirous to go again over themoraine on the left bonk of the Glacier de Triolet, or the rocks of Mont Bouge. -

CHAP. X. TBE VIEW FROM MONT DOLENT. 183soft, so pure; it seemed a crime to defile it; it was.a miniatureJungfrau, a toy summit, you-could cover it with the hand.*But there -was nothing little about the view from the Mont-Dolent. [Situated at the junction of three mountain ridges, it risesin à positive steeple far above anything in its immediate neighbourhood;and'certain gapB in the surrounding ridges, which seemcontrived for that especial purpose," extend the view in almost everydirection. The precipices which descend to the Glacier d'ArgentièreI can only compare to those of the Jungfrau, and the ridges oh bothsides of that glacier, especially the steep rocks of Les Droites andLes Courtes, surmounted by the sharp snow-peak of the Aig. Verte,have almost the effect of the Grandes Jorasses. Then, framed, asit were,-between the massive tower of the Aig. de Triolet and themore distant Jorasses, lies, without exception, the most delicatelybeautiful picture I have ever seen—the whole massif of Mónt Blanc,raising its great head of snow far above the tangled series of flying•^buttresses which uphold the Monts Maudits, supported on the left"by Mont Peuteret and by the mass of ragged aiguilles which overhangthe Brenva. This aspect of Mont Blanc is not new, but from•this point its pose is unrivalled, and it has all the superiority of a-picture grouped by the -hand of a master^ ... The view is asextensive, and far more lovely than that from Mont Blanc itself.] f• We went down to Courmayeur, and on the afternoon of July 10started from that place to camponMont Suc, for the ascent of theAiguille.de Trélatéte; hopeful that the mists which were hangingabout would clear away. They did not, so we.deposited ourselves,and a vast load of straw, on the moraine of the Miage Glacier, justabove the Lac de Combal, in a charming little hole which, some.solitary shepherd had excavated beneath a great slab of rock. "Wespent the night there, and the whole of the next day, unwilling* The ascent of Mont Dolent and return to Pre du Bar (halts included) occupiedless than 11 hours. . •f. The bracketed paragraphs in this chapter are extracted from the notes of Mr.Beilly.

184 TUE ASCENT OF TUE MATTERHORN.to run away, and equally so to get into difficulties by venturinginto the mist. It was a dull time, and Igrew restless. Beilly read to me a lectureon the excellence of patience, and composedhimself in an easy attitude, to pore over thepages of a yellow-covered book. "Patience,"I said to him viciously, " comes readilyto fellows who have shilling novels ; but Ihave not got one ; I have picked all the mud out of the nails ofmy boots, and have skinned my face ; what, shall I do ? " " Go and study the moraineI the Miage," said he. I went, and came• back after an hour. " What news ? " criedBeilly, raising himself on his elbow. " Verylittle; it's a big moraine, bigger than Ithought, with ridge outside ridge, like a fortified camp ; and thereare walls upon it which have been builtand loop-holed, as if for defence." " Tryagain," he said, as he threw himself on hisback. But I went to Croz, who was asleep,and tickled his nose with a straw untilhe awoke ; and then, as that amusement was played out, watchedBeilly, who was getting numbed, and shifteduneasily from side to side, and threw himselfon his stomach, and rested his headon his elbows, and lighted his pipe andpuffed at it savagely. When I looked again,how was Beilly? An indistinguishableheap ; arms, legs, head, stones, and straw, all mixed together, hisf hat flung on one side, his novel tossed faraway ! Then I went to him, and read hima lecture on the excellence of patience.Bah ! it was a dull time. Our mountain,like a beautiful coquette, sometimes'£&»**unveiled herself for a moment, and looked charming above, although

cH.ir. x. CAMP ON MONT SUC. 185very mysterious below. It was not until eventide she allowedus to approach her ; then, as darkness came on, the curtains werewithdrawn, the light drapery was lifted, and we stole up on tiptoethrough the grand portal formed by Mont Sue. But night advancedrapidly, and we found ourselves left out in the cold, without a holeto creep into or shelter from overhanging rock. We might havefared badly, except for our good plaids. When they were sewntogether down their long edges, and one end tossed over ourrope (which was passed round some rocks), and the other securedby stones, there was sufficient protection ; and we slept on thisexposed ridge, 9700 feet above the level of the sea, more soundly,perhaps, than if we had been lying on feather beds.We left our bivouac at 4.45 A.M., and at 9.40 arrived upon thehighest of the three summits of the Trélatête, by passing over the* From a sketch by Mr. Adams-Eeilly.

186 THE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. X.lowest one. It was well above everything at this end of the chain,and the view from it was extraordinarily magnificent. The whole ofthe western face of Mont Blanc was spread out before us ; we werethe first by whom it had been ever seen. I cede the description ofthis view to my comrade, to whom it rightfully belongs.[For four years I had felt great interest in the geography ofthe chain ; the year before I had mapped, more or less successfully,all but this spot, and this spot had always eluded my grasp.The praises, undeserved as they were, which my map had received,were as gall and wormwood to me when I thought of that greatslope which I had been obliged to leave a blank, speckled overwith unmeaning dots of rock, gathered from previous maps—for Ihad consulted them all without meeting an intelligible representationof it. From the surface of the Miage glacier I had gainednothing, for I could only see the feet of magnificent ice-streams,and no more; but now, from the top of the dead wall of rockwhich had so long closed my view, I saw those fine glaciers fromtop to bottom, pouring down their streams, nearly as large as theBossons, from Mont Blanc, from the Bosse, and from the Dôme.The head of Mont Blanc is supported on this side by two buttresses,between Avhich vast glaciers descend. Of these the mostsouthern* takes its rise at the foot of the precipices which fallsteeply down from the Calotte, f and its stream, as it joins that ofthe Miage, is cut in two by an enormous rognon of rock. Next, tothe left, comes tho largest of the buttresses of which I have spoken,almost forming an aiguille in itself. The next glacier % descendsfrom a large basin which receives the snows of the summit-ridgebetween the Bosse and the Dôme, and it is divided from the thirdand last glacier § by another buttress, which joins the summit-ridgeat a point between the Dôme and the Aig. de Bionnassay.]The great buttresses betwixt these magnificent ice-streams have* This glacier is named Glacier du Mont Blanc.f The Calotte is the name given to the dome of snow at tho summit of MontBlanc. X Glacier du Dôme. § This is without a name.

cuAP. x. ON MORAINES. 187supplied a large portion of the enormous masses of débris whichare disposed in ridges round about, and are strewn over, the terminationof the Glacier de Miage in the Val Veni. These moraines*used to be classed amongst the wonders of the world. They arevery large for a glacier of the size of the Miage.The dimensions of moraines are not ruled by those of glaciers.Many small glaciers have large moraines,t and many large oneshave small moraines. The size of the moraines of any glacierdepends mainly upon the area of rock surface that is exposed to.atmospheric influences within the basin drained by the glacier ;upon the nature of such rock,—whether it is friable or resistant ;and upon the dip of strata. Moraines most likely will be small iflittle rock surface is exposed ; but when large ones are seen, then,in all probability, large areas of rock, uncovered by snow or ice,will be found in immediate contiguity to the glacier. The Miageglacier has large ones, because it receives detritus from many greatcliffs and ridges. But if this glacier, instead of lying, as it does, atthe bottom of a trough, were to fill that trough, if it were to completelyenvelope the Aiguille de Trélatête, and the other mountainswhich border it, and were to descend from Mont Blancunbroken by rock or ridge, it would be as destitute of morainicmatter as the great Mer de Glace of Greenland. For if a country ordistrict is completely covered up by glacier, the moraines may beof the very smallest dimensions.^The contributions that are supplied to moraines by glaciersthemselves, from the abrasion of the rocks over which their icepasses, are minute compared with the accumulations which are* I do not know tho origin of the term moraine. De Saussure says (vol. i. p. 380,§ 530), " tho peasants of Chamounix call these heaps of debris the moraine of theglacier." It may be inferred from this that tho term was a local one, peculiar toChamounix.t An example is referred to on p. 10G. Much more remarkable cases might boinstanced.| It is not usual to find small moraines to largo glaciers fed by many branchesdraining many different basins. That is, if the branches are draining basins which

188 TUE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. X.furnished from other sources. These great rubbish-heaps areformed, one may say almost entirely, from débris which falls,or is washed down the flanks of mountains, or from clifls borderingglaciers; and are composed, to a very limited extentonly, of matter that is ground, rasped, or filed off by the frictionof the ice.If the contrary view were to be adopted, if it could be maintainedthat " glaciers, by their motion, break off masses of rock fromthe sides and bottoms of their valley courses, and crowd along everything that is movable, so as to form large accumulations of débrisin front, and along their sides," * the conclusion could not be resisted,the greater the glacier, the greater should be the moraine.This doctrine does not find much favour with those who havepersonal knowledge of what glaciers do at the present time. FromDe Saussuref downwards it has been pointed out, time after time,that moraines are chiefly formed from débris coming from rocksor soil above the ice, not from the bed over which it passes. Butamongst the writings of modern speculators upon glaciers andglacier-action in bygone times, it is not uncommon to find thenotions entertained, that moraines represent the amount of excavation(such is the term employed) performed by glaciers, or at leastare comprised of matter which has been excavated by glaciers ;that vast moraines have necessarily been produced by vastglaciers ; and that a great extension of glaciers necessarily causesthe production of vast moraines. Such generalisations cannot besustained.are separated by mountain ridges, or which, at least, have islands of rock protrudingthrough the ice. Tho small moraines contributed by one affluent are balanced, probably,by great ones brought by another feeder.* Atlas of Physical Geography, by Augustus Petermann and the Itev. T. Milner.The italics are not in tho original.t " The stones that are found upon the upper extremities of glaciers are of thesame nature as tho mountains which rise above ; but, as the ice carries them downinto the valleys, they arrive between rocks of a totally different nature from theirown."—Do Saussure, § 530.

CHAP. X. OUR FIRST ATTEMPT ON THE AIG. D'ARGENTIÈRE. 189We descended in our track to the Lac do Combal, and fromthence went over the Col de la Seigne to les Motets, where weslept ; on July 13, crossed the Col du Mont Tondu to Contamines(in a sharp thunderstorm), and the Col de Voza to Chamounix.Two days only remained for excursions in this neighbourhood, andwe resolved to employ them in another attempt to ascend theAiguille d'Argentière, upon which mountain we had been cruellydefeated just eight days before.It happened in this way.—Beilly had a notion that the ascentof the Aiguille could be accomplished by following the ridge leadingto its summit from the Col du Chardonnet. At half-past six,on the morning of the 6th, we found ourselves accordingly on thetop of that pass. The party consisted of our friend Mooro andhis guide Aimer, Beilly and his guide François Couttet, myselfand Michel Croz. So far the weather had been calm, and the wayeasy ; but immediately we arrived on the summit of the pass, wegot into a furious wind. Five minutes earlier we were warm,—now we were frozen. Fine snow whirled up into the air penetratedevery crack in our harness, and assailed our skins as painfullyas if it had been red hot instead of freezing cold. The teethchattered involuntarily—talking was laborious ; the breath frozeinstantaneously ; eating was disagreeable ; sitting was impossible !We looked towards our mountain. Its aspect was not encouraging.The ridge that led upwards had a spiked arête, palisadedwith miniature aiguilles, banked up at their bases by heavy snowbeds,which led down, at considerable angles, on one side towardsthe Glacier de Saleinoz, on the other towards the Glacier du Chardonnet.Under any circumstances, it would have been a stiff pieceof work to clamber up that way. Prudence and comfort counselled,"Give it up." Discretion overruled valour. Moore and Aimercrossed the Col du Chardonnet to go to Orsières, and we othersreturned towards Chamounix.But when we got some distance down, the evil spirit whichprompts men to ascend mountains tempted us to stop, and to look

190 THE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. X.back at the Aiguille d'Argentière. The sky was cloudless ; nowind could be felt, nor sign of it perceived ; it was only eighto'clock in the morning ; and there, right before us, we saw anotherbranch of the glacier leading high up into the mountain—far above the Col du Chardonnet—and a little couloir risingfrom its head almost to the top of the peak. This was clearly theright route to; take. We turned back, and went at it.The glacier was steep, and the snow gully rising out of it wassteeper. Seven hundred steps were cut. Then the couloir becametoo steep. We took to the rocks on its left, and at last gained theridge, at a point about 1500 feet above the Col du Chardonnet:We faced about to the right, and went along the ridge ; keepingon some snow a little below its crest, on the Saleinoz side. Thenwe got the wind again ; yet no one thought of turning, for wewere within 250 feet of the summit.The axes of Croz and Couttet went to work once more, for theslope was about as steep as snow-slope could be. Its surface wascovered with a loose, granular crust ; dry and utterly incoherent ;which slipped away in streaks directly it was meddled with. Themen had to cut through this into the old beds underneath, and topause incessantly to rake away the powdery stuff, which poureddown in hissing streams over the hard substratum. Ugh ! howcold it was ! How the wind, blew ! Couttet's hat was torn fromits fastenings, and went on a tour in Switzerland. The Hour-likesnow, swept off the ridge above, was tossed spirally upwards,eddying in tourmentes; then, dropt in lulls, or caught by othergusts, was flung far and wide to feed the Saleinoz." My feet are getting suspiciously numbed," cried Beilly :" how about frost-bites ? " " Kick hard, sir," shouted the men ;" it's the only way." Their fingers were kept alive by their work ;but it was cold for the feet, and they kicked and hewed simultaneously.I followed their example too violently, and made ahole clean through my footing. A clatter followed as if crockeryhad been thrown down a well.

CHAP. x. CHASM NEAR THE SUMMIT. 101I went down a step or two, and discovered in a second that allwere standing. over a cavern (not a crevasse, speaking properly)that was bridged over by a thin vault.of ice, from which greaticicles hung in groves. Almost in the same minute Beilly pushedone of his hands right through the roof. The whole party mighthave tumbled through at any moment. " Go ahead, Croz, we areover a chasm ! " " We know it," he answered, " and we can't finda firm place."In the blandest manner, my comrade inquired if to perseverewould not be to do that which is called " tempting Providence."My reply being in the affirmative, he further observed, " Supposewe go down?" "Very willingly." " Ask the guides." They hadnot the least objection ; so we went down, and slept that night atthe Montanvert.Off the ridge we were out of the wind. In fact, a hundred feetdown to windward, on the slope fronting the Glacier du Chardonnet,*we were broiling hot ; there was not a suspicion of a breeze.Upon that side there was nothing to tell that a hurricane wasraging a hundred feet higher,-—the cloudless sky looked tranquillityitself : whilst to leeward the only sign of a disturbed atmospherewas the friskiness of the snow upon the crests of tho ridges.We set out on the 14th, with Croz, Payot, and Charlet, tofinish off the work which had been cut short so abruptly, and slept,as before, at the Chalets de Lognan. On the 15th, about midday,we arrived upon the summit of the aiguille, and found that wehad actually been within one hundred feet of it when we turnedback upon the first attempt.It was a triumph to Beilly. In this neighbourhood he hadperformed the feat (in 1863) of joining together " two mountains,each about 13,000 feet high, standing on the map about a mileand a half apart." Long before we made the ascent he had procuredevidence which could not be impugned, that the Pointe desPlines, a fictitious summit which had figured on other maps as adistinct mountain, could be no other than the Aiguille d'Argentière,

102 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. cnAP. x.and he had accordingly obliterated it from the preliminary draftof his map. We saw that it was right to do so. The Pointedes Plines did not exist. We had ocular demonstration of theaccuracy of his previous observations.I do not know which to admire most, the fidelity of Mr. Reilly'smap, or the indefatigable industry by which the materials wereaccumulated from which it was constructed. To men who are soundin limb it may be amusing to arrive on a summit (as we did uponthe top of Mont Dolent), sitting astride a ridge too narrow to standupon ; or to do battle with a ferocious wind (as we did on the top ofthe Aiguille de Trélatête) ; or to feel half-frozen in midsummer (aswe did on the Aiguille d'Argentière). But there is extremely littleamusement in making sketches and notes under such conditions:Yet upon all these expeditions, under the most adverse circumstances,and in the most trying situations, Mr. Beilly's brain andfingers were always at work. Throughout all he was ever alike ;the same genial, equable-tempered companion, whether victoriousor whether defeated ; always ready to sacrifice his own desires tosuit our comfort and convenience. By a happy union of audacityand prudence, combined with untiring perseverance, he eventuallycompleted his self-imposed task—a work which would have beenintolerable except as a labour of love—and which, for a singleindividual, may well-nigh be termed Herculean.We separated upon the level part of the Glacier d'Argentière,Beilly going with Payot and Charlet via the chalets of Lognan andde la Pendant, whilst I, with Croz, followed the right bank of theglacier to the village of Argentière.* At 7 P.M. we entered thehumble inn, and ten minutes afterwards heard the echoes ofthe cannon which were fired upon the arrival of our comradesat Chamounix.t* One cannot do worse than follow that path.t The lower chalet de Lognan is 2} hours' walking from Chamounix. Fromthence to tho summit of the Aiguille d'Argentière, and down to the village of thosame name, occupied 12 § hours.

CHAPTEB XLTHE FIIIST PASSAGE OF THE MOMIXG PASS—ZIXAL TO ZERMATT." A daring leader is a dangerous thing."EURIPIDES.ON July 10, Croz and I went to Sierre, in the Valais, via the Colde Balme, the Col de la Forclaz, and Martigny. The Swiss side ofthe Forclaz is not creditable to Switzerland. The path from Martignyto the summit ha3 undergone successive improvements inthese latter years ; but mendicants permanently disfigure it.We passed many tired pedestrians toiling up this oven, persecutedby trains of parasitic children. These children swarm therelike maggots in a rotten cheese. They carry baskets of fruit withwhich to plague the weary tourist. They flit around him likeflies; they thrust the fruit in his face; they pester him with theirpertinacity. Beware of them !—taste, touch not their fruit. Inthe eyes of these children, each peach, each grape, is worth aprince's ransom. It is to no purpose to be angry ; it is like flappingwasps—they only buzz the more. Whatever you do, or whateveryou say, the end will be the same. " Give me something," isthe alpha and omega of all their addresses. They learn the phrase,it is said, before they are taught tho alphabet. It is in all theirmonths. From the tiny toddler up to the maiden of sixteen, thereis nothing heard but one universal chorus of—" Give me something;will you have the goodness to give me something ? "From Sierre we went up the Val d'Anniviers to Zinal, to joinour former companions, Moore and Aimer. Moore was ambitiousto discover a shorter way from Zinal to Zermatt than the twoo

194 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. XI.passes which were known.* He had shown to me, upon Dufour'smap, that a direct line, connecting the two places, passed exactlyover the depression between the Zinal-Eothhorn and the Schallhorn.He was confident that a passage could be effected over thisdepression, and was sanguine that it would (in consequence of itsdirectness) prove to be a quicker route than the circuitous onesover the Triftjoch and the Col Durand.He was awaiting us, and we immediately proceeded up thevalley, and across the foot of the Zinal glacier to the Arpitetta Alp,where a chalet'was supposed to exist in which we might pass thenight. We found it at length,f but it was not equal to our expectations.It was not one of those fine timbered chalets, withhuge overhanging eaves, covered with pious sentences carved inunintelligible characters. It was a hovel, growing, as it were, outof the hill-side ; roofed with rough slabs of slaty stone ; withouta door or window ; surrounded by quagmires of ordure, and dirtof every description.A foul native invited us to enter. The interior was dark ; and,when our eyes became accustomed to the gloom, we saw that ourpalace was in plan about 15 by 20 feet; on one side it wasscarcely five feet high, and on the other was nearly seven. Onthis side there was a raised platform, about six feet wide, litteredwith dirty straw and still dirtier sheepskins. This was the bedroom.The remainder of the width of the apartment was thoparlour. The rest was the factory. Cheese was the article whichwas being fabricated, and the foul native was engaged in itsmanufacture. He was garnished behind with a regular cowherd'sone-legged stool, which gave him a queer, uncanny look when itwas elevated in the air as he bent over into his tub ; for the makingof his cheese required him to blow into a tub for ten minutes at a* The Col do Zinal or Triftjoch, between the Trifthom and the Ober Gabelhorn ;and tho Col Durand between the last-mentioned mountain and the Dent Blanche.For our routo from Zinal to Zermatt, see the Map of tho Valley of Zermatt.t High above the Glacier de Morning at the foot of the Crête de Milton.

CHAP. xi. NIGBT ON TBE ARPITETTA ALP. 195time. He then squatted on his stool to gain breath, and took afew whiffs at a short pipe; after which he blew away more vigorouslythan before. We were told that this procedure was necessary.It appeared to us to be nasty. It accounts, perhaps, forthe flavour possessed by certain Swiss cheeses.Big, black, and leaden-coloured clouds rolled up from Zinal,and met in combat on the Morning glacier with others whichdescended from the Bothhorn. Down came the rain in torrents,and crash went the thunder. The herd-boys hurried under shelter,for the frightened cattle needed no driving, and tore spontaneouslydown the Alp as if running a steeple-chase. Men, cows, pigs,sheep, and goats forgot their mutual animosities, and rushed tothe only refuge on the mountain. The spell was broken whichhad bound the elements for some weeks past, and the cirque fromthe Weisshorn to Lo Besso was the theatre in which they spenttheir fury.A sullen morning succeeded an angry night. We were undecidedin our council whether to advance or to return down thevalley. Good seemed likely to overpower bad ; so, at 5.40, weleft the chalet en route for our pass [amidst the most encouragingassurances from all the people on the Alp that we need not distressourselves about the weather, as it was not possible to get to thepoint at which we were aiming].*Our course led us at first over ordinary mountain slopes, andthen over a flat expanse of glacier. Before this was quitted, itwas needful to determine the exact line which was to be taken.We were divided betwixt two opinions. I advocated that acourse should be steered due south, and that the upper plateau ofthe Morning glacier should be attained by making a great detourto our right. This was negatived without a division. Aimerdeclared in favour of making for some rocks to the south-west ofthe Schallhorn, and attaining the upper plateau of the glacier bymounting them. Croz advised a middle course, up some very* Moore's Journal.o 2

196" TBE ASCENT OF TEE MATTERHORN. CHAP; xi.'steep and broken glacier. Croz's route seemed likely to turn out'to be impracticable, because much step-'cuttiog would be requiredupon it. Aimer's rocks did not look good ; they were, possibly,unassailable. I thought both routes were had, and declined. tovote for either of them. Moore hesitated, Aimer gave way, andCroz's route was adopted.He did not go very far, however, before he found that he had :undertaken too much, and after [glancing occasionally round at us,to see what we thought about it, suggested that it might, after all, ;be wiser to take to the rocks of the Schallhorn]. That is to say,he suggested the abandonment of his own and the adoption ofAimer's route. No one opposed the change of plan, and, in theabsence of instructions to the contrary, he proceeded to cut stepsacross an ice-slope towards the rocks.Let the reader now cast his eye upon the map of the Valley ofZermatt, and he will see that when we quitted the slopes of theArpitetta Alp, we took a south-easterly course over the Morningglacier. We halted to settle the plan of attack shortly after wegot upon the ice. The rocks of the Schallhorn, whose ascentAimer recommended, were then to our south-east. Croz's proposedroute was to the south-west of the rocks, and led up the southernside of a very steep and broken glacier.* The part he intended totraverse was, in a sense, undoubtedly practicable. He gave it upbecause it would have involved too much step-cutting; But thepart of this glacier which intervened between his route andAimer's rocks was, in the most complete sense of the word,impracticable. It passed over a continuation of the rocks, -andwas broken in half by them. The upper portion was separatedfrom the lower portion by a long slope of ice that had been builtup from the débris of the glacier which had fallen from above-.The foot of this slope was surrounded by immense quantities of thelarger avalanche blocks. These we cautiously skirted, and whenCroz halted they had been left far below,-and we were half-way up* Through what is technically called an "ice-fall."

CHAP. XI. A PERILOUS PATE. 197the side of the great slope which led to the base of the ice-wallabove. - . ....'-Across this ice-slope-Croz now proceeded to cut. It wasexecuting a- flank movement in the face of an enemy by whomwe might be attacked at any moment. The peril was obvious. Itwas a monstrous folly. It was foolhardiness. A retreat shouldhave been sounded.*"T am not ashamed to confess," wrote Moore in his Journal," that during the whole time we were crossing this slope my heartwas in my mouth, and I never felt relieved from such a load ofcare as when, after, I suppose, a passage of about twenty minutes,we got on to the rocks and were in safety. . . . I have neverheard a positive oath come from Aimer's mouth,-but the languagein which he kept up a running commentary, more to himself thanto me, as we went along, was stronger than I should have givenbim.credit for using. His prominent feeling seemed to be one ofindignation that we should be in such a position, and self-reproachat being a party to the proceeding ; while the emphatic way inwhich, at intervals, he exclaimed, ' Quick ; be quick/ sufficientlybetokened his alarm."It was not necessary to admonish Croz to be quick. He wasfully as alive to the risk as any of the others. He told me afterftvards,that this place was the most dangerous he had evercrossed, and that no consideration whatever would tempt himto cross it again. Manfully did he exert himself to escape fromthe impending destruction. His head, bent down to his work,^never turned to the right or to the left. One, two, three, went his^xe, and then he stepped on to the spot where he had been cutting.How painfully insecure should we have considered those steps atany other time 1 But now, we thought only of the rocks in front,and of the hideous séracs,, lurching over .above us, apparently in"the act of falling. ..* The responsibility, however, did not rest with Croz. llis part was to advise,•hut not to direct. '

198 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. XI.We got to the rocks in safety, and if they had been doubly asdifficult as they were, we should still have been well content. Wesat down and refreshed the inner man ; keeping our eyes on thetowering pinnacles of ice under which we had passed ; but which,ICE-AVALANCHE ON THE MOMINli 1'ASS.Every atom of our track, that was in its course, was obliterated ;all the new snow was swept away, and a broad sheet of smooth,glassy ice, showed the resistless force with which it had fallen.It was inexcusable to follow such a perilous path, but it is easy

CHAP. xi. TBE SUMMIT OF TEE MOMING PASS. 199.» to understand why it was taken. To bave retreated from the placewhere Croz suggested a change of plan, to have descended belowthe reach of danger, and to have mounted again by the route whichAimer suggested, would have been equivalent to abandoning theexcursion ; for no one would have passed another night in thechalet on the Arpitetta Alp. " Many,'' says Thucydides, " thoughseeing well the perils ahead, are forced along by fear of dishonour—as the world calls it—so that, vanquished by a mere word, theyfall into irremediable calamities." Such was nearly the case here.No one could say a word in justification of the course which wasadopted ; all were alive to the danger that was being encountered ;yet a grave risk was deliberately—although unwillingly—incurred,in preference to admitting, by withdrawal from an untenable position,that an error of judgment had been committed.After a laborious trudge over many species of snow, and throughmany varieties of vapour—from the quality of a Scotch mist to thatof a London fog—we at length stood on the depression betweenthe Bothhorn and the Schallhorn.* A steep wall of snow was uponthe Zinal side of the summit ; but what the descent was like onthe other side we could not tell, for a billow of snow tossed overits crest by the western winds, suspended o'er Zermatt withmotion arrested, resembling an ocean-wave frozen in the act ofbreaking, cut off the view.fCroz—held hard in by the others, who kept down the Zinalside—opened his shoulders, flogged down the foam, and cut away• The summit of the pass has been marked on Dufour's map 3793 metres, or12,4« feet .t These snow-cornices are common on the crests.of high mountain ridges, andit is always prudent (just before arriving upon the summit of a mountain or ridge)to sound with the alpenstock, that is to say, drive it in, to discover whether there isone or not. Men have often narrowly escaped losing their lives from neglecting thisprecaution. Several instances have been known of cornices having given way withouta moment's notice, and of life only having been saved through men being tiedtogether.These cornices ore frequently rolled round in a volate, and sometimes take mostextravagant forms. See pago 32.

200 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. XI.the cornice to its junction with the summit; then boldly leapeddown, and called on us to follow him.SUMMIT OF THE MOMING PASS IN 1864.It was well for us now that we had such a man as leader. Aninferior or less daring guido would have hesitated to enter upon the

CBAp. xi. .DESCENT'FROM THE MOMING TASS. 201descent in a dense mist ; and Croz himself would Bave done right-to pause' had he been less magnificent in .physique. ,". He acted,rather than said,.".Where snow lies fast, there man can go} whereice exists; a way'may"be cut; it is a question of power; I have.the-power,—all you'have"tò do is'to follow me."' Truly; hedidnotspare himself, and could he have performed the feats upon theboards of a theatre that he" did upon "this" occasion, he would have«brought down the house with thunders of applause. Hereis whatMoòre.wrote in his Journal. ' ' " "' - : - ...[The descent bore a strong resemblance to the Col de Pilatte,but was" very much steeper and altogether more difficult, which, is.sàying à good deal. Croz was in his element, and selected his waywith marvellous sagacity, while Aimer had an equally honourableand, perhaps, more responsible post in the rear, which he kept withhis usual steadiness. . . . One particular passage has impressed•itself on my mind as one of the most nervous I liave ever made.We had to pass along a crest of ice," a mere knife-edge,—on ourleft a broad crevasse, whose bottom was lost in blue haze, and onour right, at an angle of 70°, or more, a slope falling to a similargulf "below. Groz, as "hë went" along the edge, chipped smallnotches in the ice, in which we placed our feet, with the toes well•turned out, doing all we knew to preserve our balance. "Whilestepping from one of these precarious footholds to another, Istaggered for a moment. I had not really lost my footing ;" butthe agonised tone in which Aimer, who was behind me, on seeingmé waver, exclaimed, "Slip riot, sir l'agave us. an even livelierimpression than we already had of thé insecurity of the position;- ... One huge chasm,;whose upper edgewâs far above:the lowerone, could neither,be leaped nor turned, and threatened to provean insuperable barrier. But Croz showed himself equal to theemergency. Held up by ihé rest of the party, he cut a series ofholes for the hands arid feet, down andalong the almost perpendicularwall of ice forming the upper side of the schrund. ' DownIbis slippery staircase we crept, with our faces to the wall, until a

202 "TBE ASCENT OF TEE MATTERBORN. CHAP. XI.point was reached where the width of the chasm was not too greatfor us to drop across. ; Before we had done, we got quite accustomedto taking flying, leaps over the schrunds.'.. . To make along story short; after a most desperate and exciting struggle, andàs bad a piece òf ice-work as it ispossible to imagine, we emergedon to the upper plateau of the Hohlicht glacier.] ••'.-'" Thè glimpses which had been caught of the lower part of the.:..Hohlicbt glacier were discouraging, so it was "now determined tocross over the ridge between it and the Bothhorn glacier. Thiswas not done without gréât trouble. Again we rose to a heightexceeding 12,000 feet. . Eventually we took to the track of thedespised Triftjoch, and descended by the well-known, but rough,path -which leads to that pass ; arriving at the Monte Bosa hotel atZermatt at 7.20 P.M. We'occupied nearly twelve hours of actualwalking in coming from thé chalet on the Arpitëtta Alp (whichwas 2J hours above Zinal), and we consequently found that thèMorning pass was riot the shortest route from Zinal to Zerinatt,:although it was the "most direct. .Two dozen guides—good, bad, and indifferent; French, Swiss,and -Italian—can commonly be seen sitting on the wall on the frontof the Monte Bôsa hotel :* waiting on their employers, and lookingfor employers; watching new arrivalsj.arid speculating on the .number of francs which may be extracted.from their pockets. TheMessieurs—sometiriiés Btrangely and. wonderfully, dressed—standabout in groups, or lean back in chairs, or lounge on the bencheswhich are placed ' by thé door. They wear extraordinary boots,and still more' remarkable head-dresses, r Their" peeled, bh'stered,and swollen faces are worth studying. Some, by the exercise ofwatchfulness and unremitting care, have .been fortunate enoughto acquire a fine raw sienna complexion. But most of. them havenot been so happy. : They have been scorched on rocks, and roastedon glaciers. Their cheeks—first puffed, then cracked—have exudeda turpentine-like matter, which has coursed dowri their faces, and

CHAP. xi. TEE CLUB-ROOM OF ZERMATT. 203has dried in patches like the resin on the trunks of pines. Theyhave removed it, and at the same time have- pulled off large flakesof their skin. They have gone from bad to worse—their case hasbecome hopeless—knives and scissors have been called into play;tenderly, and daintily, they have endeavoured to reduce theircheeks to one, uniform hue. It is not to be done. But they havegone on, fascinated, and at last have brought their unhappy countenancesto a state of helpless and complete ruin. Their lips arecracked ; their cheeks are swollen ; their eyes are blood-shot ; theirnoses are peeled and indescribable.Such are the pleasures of the mountaineer ! Scornfully andderisively the last comer compares the sight with his own flaccidface and dainty hands ; unconscious that he too, perhaps, will benumbered with those whom he now ridicules.There is a frankness of manner about these strangely-apparelledand queer-faced men, which does not remind one of drawing-room,or city life ; and it is good to see—in this club-room ofZermatt—those cold bodies, our too-frigid countrymen, regeletogether when brought into contact; and it is pleasant to witnessthe hearty welcome given to the new-comers by the host arid hisexcellent wife.*I left this agreeable society to seek letters at the post. Theyyielded disastrous intelligence. My holiday was brought to anabrupt termination, and I awaited the arrival of Beilly (who wasconvoying the Btores for the attack on the Matterhorn) only toinform him that our arrangements were upset; then travelledhome, day and night, as fast as express trains would carry me.* This opportunity has been taken to introduce to tho reader some of the mostexpert amateur mountaineers of the time; and a few of the guides who have been,or will be, mentioned in the course of the book.. The late Peter Pernn is on the extremo righi Then come young Peter Taugwalder(upon the bench); and J.J. Maquignaz (leaning against the door-post).Pranz Andermatten occupies the steps, and Ulrich Lauener towers in the background.

CHAPTEE XII.• ' ' - ' s .• • THE FIRST ASCENT OF THE GRAND CORNIER." Ye crags and peaks, I'm with you once again !Methinks I hearA spirit in your echoes answers me,And bid your tenant welcome to his home, - - - . Again!" - . • •S. KNOWLES.OUR career in 1864 had been one of unbroken success, but thegreat ascent upon which I had set my heart was not attempted,and, until it was accomplished, I was unsatisfied. Other things;too, influenced me to visit the Alps once more. I wished to travelelsewhere, in places ' where the responsibility of direction wouldrest With myself alone, It was well to know how far my judgmentin the choice of routes could be relied upon.The journey of 1865 was chiefly undertaken, then, to find outto what extent I was capable to select paths over mountainouscountry. The programme which was drawn up for this journeywas rather ambitious, ' since it" included almost all of the greatpeaks which had not then been ascended; but it was neitherlightly undertaken nor hastily executed. All pains were takento .secure success, Information was sought from those who couldgive it, and the defeats of others were studied, that their errorsmight be avoided. The results which followed came not so much,perhaps, from luck, as from forethought and careful calculation.JFor success does not, as a rule, come by chance, and when onefails there is a reason for it. But when any notable, or so-calledbrilliant thing is done, we are too apt to look upon the success

CHAP. XII. ON CEOICE- OF ROUTES. 205alone, without considering how it was accomplished. Whilst, whenmen fail, we inquire why they have not succeeded. So failures aireoftentimes more instructive than successes, and the disappointmentsof some become profitable to others. .Up to a certain point, the prograrnme was completely andhappily, carried out. Nothing but success attended our efforts solong as the excursions were executed as they had been. planned;Most of them were made upon the very days which had beenfixed for them months beforehand; and all were accomplished;comparatively speaking, so easily, that their descriptions must bejin the absence of difficulty and danger, less interesting to.thegerieral reader than they would have been if our course had beenmarked by blunders and want of judgment. Before proceeding tospeak of these excursions, it will not be entirely useless to explainthe reasons which influenced the selection of the routes whichwere adopted upon them. - • -• In the course of the past five seasons my early practices wererevolutionised. My antipathy to snow was overcome, and mypredilection for rocks was modified. Like all those who are notmountaineers born, I was, at the first, extremely nervous uponsteep snow.- The snow seemed bound to slip, and all those whowere upon it to go along with it.- Snow of a certain quality isundoubtedly liable to slip when it is at a certain inclination.^The exact states which are dangerous, or safe, it is not possible todescribe in writing. That is only learnt by experience, and confidenceupon snow is not really felt until one has gained experience.Confidence gradually camé to me, and as it came so did my partialityfor rocks diminish. For it Was evident, to use a commonexpression, that it paid better to ^travel upon snow than uponrocks. This applies to snow-beds purè and simple, or to snowwhich is lying over glacier ; and in the selection of routes it has,latterly, always been my practice to look for the places where snowslopes, or snow-covered glaciers, reach highest into mountains.! -* See pp. 115 and 190. .. t S«* P- Ml-

206 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEREORN. CHAP. XU.It is comparatively seldom, however, that an ascent of a greatmountain can be executed exclusively upon snow" and glacier.Bidges peep through which have to be surmounted. In my earlierscramblings I usually took to, or was taken upon, the summits (orarêtes) of the ridges, and a good many mountaineers habituallytake to them on principle, as the natural and proper way. Accordingto my experience, it is seldom well to do so when any othercourse is open. As I have already said, and presently shall repeatmore particularly, the crests of all the main ridges of the greatpeaks of the Alps are shattered and cleft by frost ; and it not unfrequentlyhappens that a notch in a ridge, which appears perfectlyinsignificant from a distance, is found to be an insuperable barrierto farther progress ; and a great detour, or a long descent, has tobe made to avoid the obstacle. When committed to an arête oneis tied, almost always, to a particular course, from which it is difficultto deviate. Much loss of time must result if any seriousobstruction occurs ; and defeat often follows a temporary check.But it rarely happens that a great alpine peak is seen that iscut off abruptly, in all directions, from the snows and glaciers whichsurround it. In its gullies snow will cling, although its faces maybe too steep for the formation of permanent snow-beds. The meritsof these snow-gullies (or couloirs) have been already pointed out,*and it is hardly necessary to observe, after that which was justnow said about snow, that ascents of snow-gullies (with proper precautions)are very much to be preferred to ascents of rocky arêtes.By following the glaciers, the snow-slopes above, and thecouloirs rising from them, it is usually possible to get very closeto the summits of the great peaks in the Alps. The finalclimb -will, perhaps, necessarily be by an arête. The less of it the better.It occasionally occurs that considerable mountain slopes, orfaces, are destitute of snow-gullies. • In that case it will, verylikely, be best to adhere to the faces (or to the gullies or minorridges upon them) rather than to take to the great ridges. Upon a» See pp. 1G9-171.

CHAP. xii. CROZ AND ALMER. 207face one cari move to the right or to the left with more facilitythan upon the crest of a ridge ; and when a difficulty is arrived at,it is, consequently, less troublesome to circumvent.In selecting the routes which were taken in 1865, I looked,first, for places where glaciers and snow extended highest up intothe mountains which were to be ascended, or the ridges whichwere to be crossed. Next, for gullies filled with snow leading stillhigher ; and finally, from the heads" of the gullies we completedthe ascents, whenever it was practicable, by faces instead of byarêtes. The ascent of the Grand Cornier (13,022), of the DentBlanche (14,318), Grandes Jorasses (13,700), Aiguille Verte(13,540), Euinette (12,727), and the Matterhorn (14,780), were allaccomplished in this way ; besides the other excursions which willbe referred to by and by. The route selected, before the startwas made, was in every case strictly followed out.We inspected all of these mountains from neighbouring heightsbefore entering upon their ascents. I explained to the guides theroutes I proposed to be taken, and (when the courses were at allcomplicated) sketched them out on paper to prevent misunderstanding.In some few cases they suggested variations, and inevery case the route was well discussed. The execution of thework was done by the guides, and I seldom interfered with, orattempted to assist in it.The 13th of June 1865 I spent in the valley of Lauterbrunnenwith the Bev. W. H. Hawker and the guides Christian and UlrichLauener ; and on the 14th crossed the Petersgrat with ChristianAimer and Johann Tännler to Turtman (Tourtemagne) in theValais. Tännler was then paid off, as Michel Croz and FranzBiener were awaiting me.It was not possible to find two leading guides who workedtogether more harmoniously than Croz and Aimer. Biener's partwas subordinate to theirs, and he was added as a convenience ratherthan as a necessity. Croz spoke French alone, Aimer little elsethan German. Biener spoke both languages, and was useful on

208 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEREORN. CHAP. XII.that account; but he seldom went to the front, excepting duringthe early part, of the day, when the work was easy, and he actedthroughout more as a porter than as a guide.The importance of having a reserve of power on mountainexpeditions cannot be too strongly insisted upon.. We always hadsome in hand, and were never pressed, or overworked, so long aswe were together. Come what might, we were ready for it. Butby a series of chances, which I shall never cease to regret, I wasfirst obliged to part with Croz, and then to dismiss the others ;*and so; deviating from the course that I had deliberately adopted,which was successful in practice because it was sound in principle,became fortuitously a member of an expedition that ended withthe catastrophe which brings this book, and brought my scramblesamongst-the Alps, to a close.t -* See pp. 23&and266.-t I engaged Croz for 18G5 before I parted from him in 1801 ; but upon writing tohim in the month of April to fix the dates of his engagement, I found that he hadsupposed ho was free (in consequence of not having heard from me earlier), and hadengaged himself to a Mr. B from the 27th of June. . I endeavoured to hold himfö his' p'romise,'but he considered himself unable to withdraw from his later obligation.His letters were honourable to him. The following extract from the last onehe wrote to me is given as an interesting souvenir of a brave and upright man :—_ '/*****) til» fywH +LCCJf**^t+^U

CHAP. xii. ASCENT OF TEE GRAND CORNIER. 200On June 15 we went from Turtman to Z'meiden, and thenceover the Forcletta pass to Zinal. We diverged from the summitof the pass up some neighbouring heights to inspect the GrandCornier, and I decided to have nothing to do with its northernside. It seemed quite safe to pronounce it inaccessible from thatdirection, although it was more than seven miles away.On the 16th we left Zinal at 2.5 A.M., having been for amoment greatly surprised by an entry in the hotel-book,* andascending by the Zinal glacier, and giving the base of our mountaina wide berth in order that it might be better examined,passed gradually right round to its south, before a way up it wasseen.f At 8.30 we arrived upon the plateau of the glacier thatdescends towards the east, between the Grand Cornier and theDent Blanche, and from this place a route was readily traced.We steered to the north (as shown upon the map) over the glacier,towards the ridge that descends to the east ; gained it by mountingsnow-slopes, and followed it to the summit, which was arrivedat before half-past twelve. From first to last the route was almostentirely over snow.The ridges leading to the north and to the south from thesummit of the Grand Cornier, exhibited in a most striking mannerthe extraordinary effects that may be produced by violent alternationsof heat and cold. The southern one was hacked and splitinto the wildest forms ; and the northern one was not less cleftand impracticable, and offered the droll piece of rock-carvingwhich is represented upon page 211. Some small blocks actually* It was ah entry describing an ascent of tho Grand Cornier (which wo supposedhad never been ascended) from the very direction which wo had just pronounced tobe hopeless] It was especially startling, because Franz Biener was spoken of in thoaccount as having been concerned in the ascent. On examining Biener it was foundthat he had made the excursion, and had supposed at the time ho was upon his summitthat it was the Grand Cornier. He saw afterwards that they had only ascendedone of tho several points upon the ridge running northwards from the Grand Cornier—I believe, the Tigno do l'Allée (11,168 feet)!t For route, see the map of tho Valley of Zermatt.P

210 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP, XIItottered and fell before our eyes, and, starting others in theirdownward course, grew into a perfect avalanche, which descendedwith a solemn roar on to the glaciers beneath.It is natural that the great ridges should present the wildestforms—not on account of their dimensions, but by reason of theirPAKT OF THE SOUTHERN" KIDGE OF THE GKAND LOKN1EK.positions. They are exposed to the fiercest heat of the sun, andare seldom in shadow as long as it is above the horizon. They areentirely unprotected, and are attacked by the strongest blasts andby the most intense cold. The most durable rocks are not proofagainst such assaults. These grand, apparently solid—eternal—mountains, seeming so firm, so immutable, are yet ever changingand crumbling into dust. These shattered ridges are evidenceof their sufferings. Let me repeat that every principal ridge ofevery great peak in the Alps amongst those I have seen has been

CHAP. XII. THE GREAT RIDGES SUFFER MOST. 211shattered in this way ; and that every summit, amongst the rocksummitsupon which I have stood, has been nothing but a piled-upheap of fragments.The minor ridges do not usually present such extraordinaryforms as the principal ones. They are less exposed, and they areless broken up ; and it is reasonable to assumethat their annual degradation is less than thatof the summit-ridges.The wear and tear does not cease even inwinter, for these great ridges arenever completely covered up bysnow,* and the sun hasstillpower. Thedestructionis incessant, andincreases as time goeson ; for the greater thesurfaces which are exposedto the practicallyPART OF THE NORTHERN KIOGE OF THE GRAND CORNIER.inexhaustible powers of sun and frost, the greater ruin will beeffected.The rock-falls which are continually occurring upon all rockmountains (such as are referred to upon pp. 29, 55) are, of course,* I wrote in the Athenäum. August 29, 1803, to the .sum' effect "This actionof the frost does not cease in winter, inasmuch as it is impossible for the Matterhornto be entirely covered by snow. Less précipitons mountains may be entirely coveredup «luring winter, and if they do not then actually gain height, the wear sad tear is,at least, suspended. . . . We arrive, therefore, at the conclusion that, althoughsuch snow-peaks as Mont Blanc may in the course of ages grow higher, the Matterhornmust decrease in height." These remarks have received confirmation.The men who were left by M. Dollfus-Ausset in his observatory upon the summitof the Col Théodule, during the winter of 1865, remarked that the snow was partiallymelted upon the r.rks in their vicinity upon 19th, 20th. 21st, 22d, 23d, 20th, 27thDecember of that year, and upon the 22d of December they entered in their Journal,•• Nous avons m nu Matterhorn que la neige se fondait rur renins et ipt'il ilen écoulait.!,. rea»."—Matériaux pew ritmai ./.s Qlaeier», vol. viii. part i. p. 240. 18CS : andvol. viii. part ii. ['. 77. 1869.v 2

212 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. cnAP. XII.caused by these powers. No one doubts it ; but one never believesit so thoroughly as when the quarries are seen from which theirmaterials have been hewn ; and when the germs, so to speak, ofthese avalanches have been seen actually starting from above.These falls of rock take place from two causes. First, from theheat of the sun detaching small stones or rocks which have beenarrested on ledges or slopes and bound together by snow or ice. Ihave seen such released many times when the sun has risen high ;fall gently at first, gather, strength, grow in volume, and at lastrush down'with a cloud trailing behind, like the dust after anexpress train. Secondly, from the freezing of the water whichtrickles, during the day, into the clefts, fissures, and crannies.This agency is naturally most active in the night, and then, orduring very cold weather, the greatest falls take place.*When one has continually seen and heard these falls, it is easilyunderstood why the glaciers are laden with moraines. The wonderis, not that they are sometimes so great, but that they are notalways greater. Irrespective of lithological considerations, oneknows that this débris cannot have been excavated by the glaciersJThe moraines are borne by glaciers, but they are born from theridgesi They are generated by the sun, and delivered by the frost."Fire," it is well said in Plutarch's life of Camillus, "is the mostactive thing in nature, and all generation is motion, or at least,with motion ; all other parts of matter without warmth lie sluggishand dead, and crave the influence of heat as their life, and whenthat comes upon them, they immediately acquire some active orpassive qualities." t* In each of the seven nights I passed upon the south-west ridge of the Matterhornin 1861-3 (at heights varying from 11,844 to 12,992 feet above the level of thesea), the rocks fell incessantly in showers and avalanches. See p. 120.t Tonson's Ed. of 1758. Bacon may have had this passage in mind when howrote, "It must not be thought that heat generates motion, or motion heat (thoughin some respects this bo true), but that tho very essence of heat, or tho substantialself of heat, is motion and nothing else."—Novum Organum, book iL ' Devey'sTranslation.

CHAP. xii. FROST AND FIRE DO TEE WORK. 213If thé Alps were granted a perfectly invariable temperature, ifthey were no longer subjected, alternately, to freezing blasts andto scorching heat, they might more correctly be termed 'eternal.'They might still continue to decay, but their abasement would bemuch less rapid. . -, " . . •When rocks are covered up by a sheet of glacier they dò énjóyan almost invariable temperature. The extremes of summer andwinter are unknown to rocks which are so covered up,—a range ofa very few degrees is the most that is possible underneath the" ice.*There is, then, little or no disintegration from, unequal expansionand contraction. ; Frost, then, does not penetrate into.the heart ofthé rock, and cleave off vast masses. " The.rocks, then, sustaingrinding instead of cleaving. Atoms, then, come away instead ofmasses. Fissures and overhanging surfaces are bridged, for theice cannot get at them; and after many centuries of .grindinghave been sustained, we still find numberless angular surfaces (inthe Zee-sides) which were fashioned before^he ice began to work.The points of difference which are so evident between theoperations of heat, cold, and water, and those of glaciers.uponrocks, are as follow. The former take advantage of cracks, fissures,joints, and soft places;" the latter do not. The former can workunderneath overhanging masses ; the latter cannot. The effectsproduced by the former continually increase, because they continuallyexpose fresh surfaces by forming new cracks, fissures, andholes. The effects which the latter produce constantly diminish,because the area of the surfaces operated upon becomes less andless, as they become smoother and flatter.What can one conclude, then, but that sun, frost, and water,* Doubtless, at the sides of glacier beds, the raDge of temperature is greater. Butthere is evidence that the winter cold does not penetrate to the innermost recesses ofglacier-beds in the fact that streams continue to flow underneath the ice all the yearround, winter as well as summer, in the Alps and (I was informed in Greenland) inGreenland. Experimental proof can be readily obtained that even in midsummerthe bottom temperature is close to 32° Fnht.

214 TEE ASCENT OF TBE MATTEREORN. CHAP. XII.have had infinitely more to.do than glaciers with the fashioning ofmountain-forms and valley-slopes? Who can refuse to believethat powers which are at work everywhere, which have been atwork always, which are so incomparably active, capable, and enduring,must have produced greater effects than a solitary powerwhich is always local in its influence, which has worked, comparatively,but for a short time, which is always slow and feeble in itsoperations, and which constantly diminishes in intensity ?Yet there are some who refuse to believe that sun, frost, andwater havé*played an important part in modelling the Alps, andhold it as an article of their faith that the Alpine region " owes itspresent conformation mainly to the action of its ancient glaciers"!*My reverie was interrupted by Croz observing that it was timeto be off. Less than two hours sufficed to take us to the glacierplateau below (where we had left our baggage); three.quarters ofan hour more placed us upon the depression between the GrandCornier and the Dent Blanche (Col du Grand Comierf), and at6 P.M. we arrived at Abricolla. Croz aud Biener hankered aftermilk, and descended to a village lower down the valley ; butAimer and I stayed where we were, and passed a chilly nighton some planks in a half-burnt chalet.{* Professor Tyndall " On tho Conformation of tho Alps," Phil. Mag., Sept 1862.t This had been crossed, for the first time, a few months before.X The following details may interest mountain-climbers. Left Zinal (5505 feet)2.5 A.M. Thence to plateau S.E. of summit of Grand Cornier, 5 h. 25 min. Fromthe plateau to the summit of the mountain, 2| hours. The last 300 feet of the ridgefollowed were exceedingly sharp and narrow, with a great cornice, from which hugeicicles depended. We were obliged to go underneath tho cornice, and to cut a waythrough the icicles. Descent from summit to plateau, 1 h. 40 min. Sharp snowstorm,with thunder. Plateau to summit of Col du Grand Cornier (rocks easy),45 min. From the summit of the Col to the end of glacier leading to the west, 55 min.Thence to Abricolla (7959), 15 min.

CHAPTERXIII.THE ASCENT OF THE DENT BLANCHE."God help thee, Trav'ller, on thy jnumcy far;The wind is hitter keen,—tho snow o'erlaysThe hidden pits, and dang'rous hollow-ways,And darkness will involve thee.—No kind starTo-night will guide thee." . . .H. KIIIKI. WHITK.CROZ and Biener did not return until past 5 A.M. on June 17, andwe then set out at once for Zermatt, intending to cross the Cold'Hérens. But we did not proceed far before the attractions ofthe Dent Blanche were felt to be irresistible, and we turnedaside up the steep lateral glacier which descends along its southwesternface.The Dent Blanche is a mountain that is little known except tothe climbing fraternity. It was, and is, reputedto be one of the most difficult mountains in theAlps. Many attempts were made to scale itbefore its ascent was accomplished. Even LeslieStephen himself, fleetest of foot of the wholeAlpine brotherhood, once upon a time returneddiscomfited from it.It was not climbed until 1862 ; but in thatyear Bit. T. S. Kennedy, with Mr. Wigram, andthe guides Jean B. Croz* and Kronig, managedto conquer it. They had a hard fight though before they gained* The brother of nay guide Michel Croz.

216 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEREORN. CHAP. xra.the victory; a furious wind and driving snow, added to thenatural difficulties, nearly turned the scale against them.*Mr. Kennedy started from Abricolla between 2 and 3 A.M. onJuly 18, 1862, and ascending the glacier that is mentioned in theopening paragraph, went towards the point marked 3912 mètresupon the map ; f then turned to the left (that is, to the north),and completed the ascent -by the southern ridge—that whichoverhangs the western side of the Schönbühl glacier.Mr. Kennedy described his expedition in a very interestingpaper in the Alpine Journal. His account bore the impress oftruth ; yet unbelievers said that it was impossible to have told (inweather such as was experienced) whether the summit had actuallybeen attained, and sometimes roundly asserted that the mountain,as the saying is, still remained virgin.I did not share these doubts, although they influenced me tomake the ascent. I thought it might be possible to find an easierroute than that taken by Mr. Kennedy, and that if we succeededin discovering one we should be able at once to refute his traducérs,and to vaunt our superior wisdom. Actuated by theseelevated motives, I halted my little army at the foot of theglacier, and inquired, " Which is best for us to do ?—to ascendthe Dent Blanche, or to cross to Zermatt?" They answered,with befitting solemnity, " We think Dent Blanche is best."From the chalets of Abricolla the south-west face of the DentBlanche is regarded almost exactly in profile. From thence it isseen that the angle of the face scarcely exceeds thirty degrees, andafter observing this I concluded that the face would, in all probability,give an easier path to the summit than the crest of thevery jagged ridge which was followed by Mr. Kennedy.We zigzagged up the glacier along the foot of the face, andlooked for a way on to it. We looked for some time in vain, for amighty bergschrund effectually prevented approach, and, like afortress' moat, protected the wall from assault. We went up and* See note to p. 70. - t See map of the Valley of Zermatt.

CHAP. xni. BERGSCHRUND OF THE DENT BLANCHE. 217up, until, I suppose, we were not more than a thousand feet belowthe point marked 3912 mètres ; then a bridge was discovered, andwe dropped down on hands and knees to cross it.THE BERGSCHRUND ON THE DENT BLANCHE IN IA bergschrund, it was said on p. 182, is a schrund, and somethingmore than a schrund. A schrund is simply a big crevasse.

218 ; •• TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEREORN.' .CHXP.'xni.A bergschrund is frequently, although not always, a big crevasse".The term is applied to the last of the crevasses that one finds, inascending, before quitting the glacier, and taking to the rockswhich bound it. It is the mountains' schrund. Sometimes it isvery large, but early in the season (that is to say in the month ofJune or before) bergschrunds are usually snowed up, or wellbridged over, and do not give much trouble. Later in the year,say in August, they are frequently very great hindrances, andoccasionally are completely impassable.They are-lines of rupture consequent upon unequal motion.The glaciers below move quicker than the snow or ice which clingsimmediately to the mountains ; hence these fissures result. Theslower motion of that which is above can only be attributed to itshaving to sustain greater friction ; for the rule is that the upperportion is set at a steeper angle than the lower. As that is thecase, we should expect that the upper portion would move quickerthan the lower, and it would do so, doubtless, but for the retardationof the rocks over which, and through which, it passes.*èWe crossed the bergschrund of the Dent Blanche, I suppose,at a height of about 12,000 feet above the level of the sea. Ourwork maybe said to have commenced at that point. The face,although not steep in its general inclination, was so cut up bylittle ridges and cliffs, and so seamed with incipient couloirs, thatit had all the difficulty of a much more precipitous slope. Thedifficulties were never great, but they were numerous, and madea very respectable total when put together. We passed the bergschrundsoon after nine in the morning, and during the ' nexteleven hours halted only, five-and-forty minutes. The whole ofthe remainder of the time was occupied in ascending and descendingthe 2400 feet -which compose this south-western face; andinasmuch as 1000 feet per hour (taking the mean of ascent and* Couloirs are invariably protected at their bases by bergschrunds. An exampleef a couloir with a double bergschrund is given on p. 169.

CHAP. xin. UNWELCOME ATTENTIONS.' ' 219descent) is an ordinary rate of progression, it is tolerably certainthat the Dent Blanche is a mountain of exceptional difficulty. 'The hindrances opposed to us by the mountain itself were;however, as nothing compared with the atmospheric obstructions.It is true there was plenty of, "Are you fast, Aimer?" "Yes.""Go ahead; Biener." Biener, made secure, cried, "Come on, sir,"and Monsieur endeavoured. " No, no," said Aimer, " not there,—here,"—pointing with his bâton to the right place to clutch. Then'twas Croz's turn, and we all drew in the rope as the great manfollowed. " Forwards " once more—and so on.Five hundred feet of this kind of work had been accomplishedwhen we were saluted (not entirely unexpectedly) by the first gustof a hurricane which was raging above. The day was a lovely onefor dwellers in the valleys, but we had, long ago, noted some light;gossamer clouds, that were hovering round our summit, beingdrawn out in a suspicious manner into long, silky threads. Croz,indeed, prophesied before we had crossed the schrund, that weshould be beaten by the wind, and had advised that we shouldreturn. But I had retorted, " No; my good Croz, you said justnow ' Dent Blanche is best '; we must go up the Dent Blanche."I have a very lively and disagreeable recollection of this wind;Upon the outskirts of the disturbed region it was only fell.occasionally.It then seemed to make rushes atone particular man, andwhen it had discomfited him, it whisked itself away to some faroffspot, only to return, presently, in greater force than before.My old enemy—the Matterhorn—seen across the basin of theZ'Muttgletscher, looked totally unassailable. "Do you think," themen asked, " that you, or. any one • else, will ever get up tliatmountain ? " And when, undismayedby their ridicule, I stoutlyanswered; "Yes, but not upon that side," they.burst into derisivechuckles. I must confess that my hopes sank; for nothing canlook more completely inaccessible than the Matterhorn oh, itsnorthern and north-west sides. ' . . . . , . .

220 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEREORN. CHAP. xm.: " Forwards " once again. We overtopped the Dent d'Hérens."Not a thousand feet more; in three hours we shall be on thesummit." "You mean ten," echoed Croz, so slow had been theprogress. But I was not far wrong in the estimate. At 3.15 wostruck the great ridge followed by Mr. Kennedy, close to the.top ofthé mountain. The wind and cold were terrible.there." Progresswas oftentimes impossible, and wë waited, crouching under the leeof rocks, listening to ' the shrieking of the mindless wind,' whilethe blasts swept across, tearing off the upper snow and blowingit away in streamers over the Schönbühl glacier—" nothing seenexcept an indescribable "writhing in the air, like the wind madevisible." •Our goal was concealed by mist, although it was only a fewyards away, and Croz's prophecy, that we should stay all nightupon" the summit, seemed likely to come true.. Thè men rose withthe occasion, although even their fingers had nearly lost sensation.There were no murmurings, nor suggestions of return, and theypressed on for the little white cone which they knew must benear at hand. Stopped again ; a big mass perched loosely on theridge barred the way ; we could not crawl over, and scarcely daredcreep round it. The wine went round for the last time. Theliquor was half-frozen,—still we would more of it. It was allgone; the bottle was left behindhand we pushed on, for therewas a lull. -."'..-.The end came almost before it was expected. The cloudsopened, and I saw that we were all but upon the highest point,and that, between us and it, about twenty yards off, there was alittle artificial pile of stones. Kennedy was a true man,—it was acairn which he had erected. " What is that, Croz?" "Homme despierres," he bawled. It was needless to proceed farther ; I jerkedthe rope from Biener, and motioned that we should go back. Hedid ,the same to Aimer, and we turned immediately. They did notsee the stones (they were cutting footsteps), and misinterpreted

CHAP. xm. A BACE FOR LIFE. 221the reason of the retreat. Voices were inaudible, and explanationsimpossible.*We commenced the descent of the face. It was hideous work.The men looked like impersonations of Winter, with their hair allfrosted, and their beards matted with ice. My hands were numbed—dead. I begged the others to stop. " We cannot afford to stop ;we must continue to move," was their reply. They were right; tostop was to be entirely frozen. So we went down ; gripping rocksvarnished with ice, which pulled the skin from the fingers. Gloveswere useless ; they became iced too, and the bâtons slid throughthem as slippery as eels. ;The iron of the axes stuck to the fingers.—it felt red-hot ; but it was useless to shrink, the rocks and theaxes had to be firmly grasped—no faltering would do here.We turned back at 4.12 P.M., and at 8.15 crossed the bergschrundagain, not having halted for a minute upon the entiredescent. During the last two hours it was windless, but time wasof such vital importance that we pressed on incessantly, and didnot stop until we were fairly upon the glacier. Then we tookstock of what remained of the tips'of our fingers. There was notmuch skin left; they were perfectly raw,'and for weeks afterwardsI was reminded of the ascent of the Dent Blanche by the twingeswhich I felt when I pulled on my boots. The others escaped withsome slight frost-bites ; and, altogether, we had reason to congratulateourselves that we got off so lightly. The men complimentedme upon the descent, and I could do the same honestly to them.If they had worked less vigorously, or harmoniously, we shouldhave been benighted upon the face, where there was not a singlespot upon which it was possible to sit ; and if that had happened,I do not think that one would have survived to tell the tale.We made the descent of the glacier in a mist, and of the* The* summit of the Bent Blanche is a ridge, perhaps one hundred yards inlength. The highest point is usually at its north-eastern end. Several ascentsbesides those made by Mr. Kennedy and the author have been mode in lato years ;but, as yet, no one seems to have discovered an easy route up the mountain.

222 TUE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. XIII.moraine at its base, and of the slopes below, in total darkness,and regained the chalets of Abricolla at 11.45 P.M. We had beenabsent eighteen and a half hours, and out of that time had beengoing not less than seventeen. That night we slept the sleep ofthose who are thoroughly tired.*Two days afterwards, when walking into Zermatt, whom shouldwe meet but Mr. Kennedy. " Hullo ! " we said, " we have just seenyour cairn on the top of the DentBlanche." " No, you haven't," heanswered, very positively. " Whatdo you mean ? " " Why, that youcannot have seen my cairn, becauseI didn't make one !" " Well,but we saw a cairn." "No doubt ;it was made by a man who wentup the mountain last year withLauener and Zurfluh."' " 0-o-h,"we said, rather disgusted at hear-T. S. KENNEDY.ing news when we expected tocommunicate some, " 0-o-h ! good morning. Kennedy." Before thishappened, wo managed to lose our way upon the Col d'Hérens;but an account of that must be reserved for the next chapter.* The ascent of the Dent Bianche is the hardest that I have made. There wasnothing upon it SO difficult as the last 500 feet of the Pointe des Ecrins ; but. on tinotherhand, there was hardly a step lipon it which was positively easy. The wholeof the face required actual climbing. There was, probably, very little differencein difficulty between the route we took in 18i..">, and that followed by Mr. Kennedyin 18!;--'.

CHAPTER XIV.LOST ON THE COL D'HÉRENS.—MY SEVENTH ATTEMPI' ,TO_ ASCEND THE MATTERHORN."Ohi ye immortal gods, where in the-world are we'?" " »• CICERO.WE should have started for Zermatt about 7 A.M. on the 18th, hadnot Biener asked to be allowed to go to mass at Evolène, a villageabout two and a half hours from Abricolla. He received permission,on the condition that he returned not later than mid-day,.but he did not come back until 2.30 P.M., and we.thereby got intoa pretty little mess. .The pass which we were about to traverse to Zermatt—the .Cold'Hérens—is one of the few glacier-passes in this district whichhave been known almost from time immemorial. It is frequentlycrossed in the summer season, and is a very easy route, notwithstandingthat the summit of the pass is 11,417 feet above thelevel of the sea.*.•:.....From Abricolla to the summit the way lies chiefly over theflat-Glacier de Ferpècle. The walk is of the most straightforwardkind. " The glacier rises in gentle undulations; its crevasses.aresmall and easily avoided ; and all you have to do, after oncegetting upon the ice, is to proceed due south, in the most directmanner possible. ". If you do so," in two hours you should be uponthe summit of the pass.: "•.'.'.We tied ourselves in line, of course, when we entered upon the* Bee Map of the Valley of Zermatt. The route taken upon June 10 is alouomarked. .•-••' • ". ...

224 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTEREORN. CHAP. XIV.glacier, and placed Biener to lead, as he had frequently crossedthe pass ; supposing that his local knowledge might save us sometime upon the other side. We had proceeded, I believe, abouthalf-way up, when a little, thin cloud dropped down upon us fromabove. It was so light and gauzy, that we did not for a momentsuppose it would become embarrassing, and hence I neglected tonote at the proper moment the course which we should steer,—that is to say, to observe our precise situation, in regard to thesummit of the pass.For some, little time Biener progressed steadily, making atolerably straight track ; but at length he wavered, and deviatedsometimes to the right, and sometimes to the left. Croz rushedforward directly he saw this, and taking the poor young man byhis shoulders gave him a good shaking, told him that he was animbecile, to .untie himself at once, and to go to the rear. Bienerlooked half-frightened, and obeyed without a murmur. Croz ledoff briskly, and made a good straight track for a few minutes.Then, it seemed to me, he began to move steadily round to the.left. I looked back, but the mist was now too thick to see ourtraces, and so we continued to follow our leader. At last the others(who were behind,, and in a better.position to judge) thought thesame as I did, and we pulled up Croz to deliver our opinion. Hetook our criticism in good part, but when Biener opened his mouththat was too much for him to stand, and he told the young managain, "You are imbécile; I bet you twenty francs to one that mytrack is better than yours; twenty francs, now then, imbecile !"Aimer went to the front. He commenced by returning in thetrack for a hundred yards or so, and then started off at a tangentfrom Croz's curve. We kept this course for half-an-hour, and thenwere certain that we were not on the right route, because thesnow became decidedly steep. We bore away more and more tothe right, to avoid this steep bank, but at last I rebelled, as wehad for some time been going almost south-west, which wasaltogether the wrong direction. After a long discussion we

CHAP..XIV. ' BEWILDEBED.. \ 225returned some distancé in our track, arid then steered a'little eastof south, but we continually met steep snow-slopes, and to avoid"\ them went right or: left as the case might require'.f •-'.. We. were greatly puzzled, and could" not in the least tellwhether we were too hear the Dent Blanche or too close"to.theTête Blanche. The mists had thickened, and were now as dense asa moderate London fog.. There were no rocks of echoes to directus, and the guidance of the/compass brought us invariably againstthese steep snow-banks. The men were fairly ieaten ; theyhadall had a try, or more than one, and at last gave it up as à bad job,and asked what was to be done. It was 7.30 P.M. and only ah lour.of daylight was left. .We were beginning to feel used up, for wehad wandered about at tip-top speed for the last "three hours and ahalf, so I said, " This is my advice ; let us turn in our track, and goback as hard as ever we can, not quitting the track for an instant."They were well content, but just as we were -starting off, theclouds lifted a little, and we thought we saw the Col. It was thento pur.right, and we^went at it with a dash. Before we had gonea hundred paces down came the mist again. We kept on neverthelessfor twenty minutes, and then, as darkness was perceptiblycomingon, and the snow was yet rising in front, we turned.back;and by running down the entire distance managed to get clear of|r the Ferpècle glacier just as it became pitch dark. We arrived at* our cheerless chalet in due course, and went to bed supperless,:\for our food was gone; all very sulky—not to say savage—^§Ag|eeing in nothing except in bullying Biener. - _ • ;lappAt 7 A.M. on the 19th, we set out, for the third time, for ther{ A?oT d'Hérens. It was a fine-day, and we gradually recoveredourtempers as we saw the follies which had been committed on theprevious evening. _ Burner's wavering track was not so bad ; butproz had swerved from the right route from the first, and hadtraced a complete semicircle, BO that when we stopped hinvwewere facing Abricolla—whence we had started. Aimer had commencedwith great discretion ; but he kept on too long, and crossedQ

226 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEREORN. CHAP, XIV.-the proper route. When I stopped them (because we were goingsouth-west), we were a long way up the Tête Blanche! Our lastattempt was in the right direction ; we were actually upon thesummit of the pass, and in another ten yards we should have commencedto go down hill 1 It is needless to point out that if thecompass had been looked to at thè proper moment—that is, immediatelythe mist came down—we should have avoided all ourtroubles. It was little use afterwards, except to tell us when wewere going wrong. We arrived at Zermatt.in six and a half hours'walking from Abricolla, and Seller's hospitable; reception set usall right again. .On the 20th we crossed the Théodule pass, and divergedfrom its summit up the Théodulhorn (ìl,391) to examine a routewhich I suggested for the ascent of the Matterhorn. Beforecontinuing an account of our proceedings, I must stop for aminute to explain why this new route was proposed, in place ofthat np the south-western ridge.The main peak of the Matterhorn may be divided into threesections.* The first, facing the Z'Muttgletscher, looks completelyunassailable; the second, facing the east, seems inaccessibilityitself; whilst the third, facing Breil, does not look entirelyhopeless. It was from this last direction that all my previousattempts were made. It was by the south-western ridge, it will beremembered, that not only I, but Mr. Hawkins, Professor Tyndall,and the chasseurs of Val Tournanche, essayed to climb the mountain.Why then abandon a route which had been shown to befeasible up to a certain point ?I gave it up for four reasons. 1. On account of my growingdisinclination for arêtes, and preference for snow and rock-faces(see Chap. XII.). 2. Because I was persuaded that meteorologicaldisturbances (by which we had been baffled several times) mightbe expected to occur again and again t (see Chaps. IV. and VI*.).• See Chap. HL pp. 44-5. .t Subséquent experiences of others have strengthened this opinion.

WËgœ&mu*- sk^sSanHa titfÜBSF^SBB^^IÉ^^K«^^BB^^^^^K^^^BHN'*!»SS^BHB^ammFM*N|^3HJSÉllHÜwr.CSBjrte-Ü"MTffTr 'R^Ç'-C'''• rrERH0RNFRCM THE RIFFELBERG.

CHAP. xrv. EASTERN FACE OF TEE MATTEBEORN. 2273. Because I found that thé east face was à gross impositionitlooked not far from perpendicular, while its. angle was, in fact»scarcely more than 40°. 4. Because I observed for myself that thestrata of the mountain dipped to the west-south-west. It is notnecessary to say anything more than has been already said upon thefirst two of thesa four points, but upon the latter two a few wordsare indispensable. Let us consider, first, why most persons receiverauch an exaggerated impression of the steepness of the eastern face., When one looks at the Matterhorn from Zermatt, the mountainis regarded (nearly) from thè north-east. The face that fronts theeast is consequently neither seen in profile nor in full front, butalmost half-way between thé two ;" it looks, therefore, more steep :than it really is. The majority of those who visit Zermatt go upto.the Biffelberg, or tothe Gornergrat, and from these placesthe mountain naturally looks still more precipitous,.because itseastern face (which is almost all that is seen of it) is viewed moredirectly in front. From the Eiffel hotel the slope seems to be set .at an angle of 70°. If the tourist continues to go southwards/andcrosses the Théodule pass, he gets, at one point, immediately in 'front of the eastern face, which then seems to be absolutely perpendicular.Comparatively few persons correct the erroneous impressionsthey receive in these quarters by studying the face inprofile, and most go away with a very incorrect and exaggeratedidea of thè precipifousness of this side of the mountain, becausethey have considered the question from one point of view alone. '".*•Several years passed away before I shook myself clear of myearly and false impressions regarding the steepness of this side ofthe Matterhorn.^ First of all, I noticed that there were places onthis eastern face where snow remained permanently all thé yearround.*. I do not speak of snow in gullies, but of the considerableslopes which are seen upon the accompanying engraving, abouthalf-way up the face. Such beds as these could not continue toremain throughout the summer, unless the snow had been able toaccumulate in the winter in large masses ; and snow cannot acculi2. ."'

228 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEORN. CHAP. xiv.-mulâtè and remain in large masses, in a situation such as this, atangles much exceeding 45°.* Hence I was bound to conclude thatthe eastern face was many degrees removed from perpendicularity;and, to be .sure on this point,.I went to the slopes between theZ'Muttgletscher and the Matterhorngletscher, above the chalets ofStaffel, whence the face could be seen in profile. Its appearancefrom this direction would be amazing to one who had seen it only.frota the east. It looks so totally different from the apparentlysheer and perfectly unclimbable cliff one sees from the Biffelberg,that it is hard to believe the two slopes are one and the same;thing. Its angle scarcely exceeds 40°., A.great step was made when this was learnt. This knowrledge alone would not, however, have caused me .to try an ascentby the eastern face instead of by the south-west ridge. Fortydegrees may not seem a formidable inclination to the reader, noris it for only a small cliff. But it is very unusual to find so steepa gradient maintained continuously as the general angle of agreat mountain-slope, and very few instances can be quoted fromthe High Alps of such an.'angle being preserved over a rise of3000 feet.I do not think that the steepness or the height of this cliffWould.have deterred climbers from attempting to ascend it, if ithad not, in addition, looked so repulsively smooth. Men despairedof finding anything to grasp. Now, some of the difficulties of thésouth-west ridge came from the smoothness.of the rocks, althoughthat, ridge, even from a distance, seemed to be well broken up.How much greater, then, might not have been the difficulty ofclimbing a face which looked smooth and unbroken close athand ?A more serious hindrance to mounting the south-west ridge isfound in the dip of its rocks to the west-south-west. The greatmass of the Matterhorn, it is now well ascertained, is composed of* I prefer to be on the safe side. My impression is that snow cannot accumulate 'in large masses at 45°.

CHAP. xiv. STRATIFICATION OF THE MATTERHORN. 229regularly stratified rocks,* which rise towards the east. It hasbeen mentioned in the text, more than once, that the rocks on someportions of the ridge leading from the Col du Lion to the summitdip outwards, and that fractured edges overhang.f This is shownin the illustrations facing pp. 76 and 84; and the annexeddiagram, Fig. 1, exhibits the same thingstill more clearly. It will be readilyunderstood that such an arrangementis not favourable for climbers, and thatFig.the degree of facility with which rockscan be ascended that are so disposed,must depend very much upon the frequencyor paucity of fissures and joints.The rocks of the south-west ridge aresufficiently provided with cracks, but ifFig. 2.it were otherwise, their texture and arrangementwould render them unassailable.*It is not possible to go a single time upon the rocks of thesouth-west ridge, from the Col du Lion to the foot of the GreatTower, without observing the prevalence of their outward dip, andthat their fractured edges have a tendency to overhang; nor canone fail to notice that it is upon this account the debris, whichis rent off by frost, does not remain in situ, but pours down inshowers over the surrounding cliffs. Each day's work, so to speak,is cleared away ; the ridge is swept clean ; there is scarcelyanything seen but firm rock.§* Upon this Bubject I beg to refer the reader to the valuable note furnished bySignor F. Giordano in the Appendix.t See pp. 56 anil 73.X Weathered granite is an admirable rook to climb; its gritty texture givingexcellent hold to the nails in one's boots. But upon such metamorphic schists ascompose the mass of the great peak of the Matterhorn, the texture of the rock itselfis of little or no value.§ I reter here only to that portion of the ridge which is between the Col du IJorj

•230 ; TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTERBORN. CHAP. XIV.The fact that the mountain is composed of a series of stratifiedbeds was pointed out long ago. De Saussure remarked it, andrecorded explicitly, in his Travels (§ 2243), that they "rose to thenorth-east at an angle of about 45°." Forbes noticed it also; andgave it. as his opinion that the beds were "less inclined, ornearly horizontal." He added, " De Saussure is no doubt correct."*The truth, I think, lies between the two.I was acquainted with both of the above-quoted passages, butdid not turn the knowledge to any practical account until I reobservedthé" same fact for myself. It was not until after myrepulse in 1863, that I referred the peculiar difficulties of thesouth-west ridge to the dip of the strata ; but when once persuadedthat structure and not texture was the real impediment, it wasreasonable to infer that the opposite side, that is to say the easternface, might be comparatively easy. In brief, that an arrangementshould be found like Fig. 2, instead of like Fig. 1. This trivialdeduction was the key to the ascent of the Matterhorn.The point was, Did the strata continue with a similar dipthroughout the mountain? If they did, then this great easternface, instead of being hopelessly impracticable, should be quite thereverse.—In fact, it should be a great natural staircase, with stepsinclining inwards; and, if it were so, its smooth aspect might beof no account, for the smallest steps, inclined in this fashion,would afford good footing. \They did so, as far as one could judge from a distance. Whensnow fell in the snmmer.time, it brought out long, terraced linesupon the mountain; rudely parallel to each other; inclined inthe direction shown (approximately) upon the figures in the accompanyingplate; and the eastern face, on those occasions, was oftenwhitened almost completely over ; while the other sides, with theand the Great Tower. The remarks would not apply to the rocks higher up (see.p. 75); higher still the rocks are firm again; yet higher (upon the "Shoulder")they are much disintegrated ; and then, upon the final peak, they are again firm. ;* Travels through the Alps, 2nd ed. p. 317.

THE MATTERHORN FROM THE SUMMIT OF THE THEODULE PASS.THE MATTERHORN FROM THE NORTH-EAST.THE SPACES BETWEEN THE PARALLEL RED LINES REPRESENT ON AN AVERAGE A VERTICAL HEIGHT OF ABOUT60 FEET, BUT, ON. ACCOUNT OF FORESHORTENING. THE HEIGHT BETWEEN THE UPPERMOST LINES IS SOMEWHATMORE THAN THIS AMOUNT.

CHAP. xrv. WE TRY ANOTBER ROUTE. 231exception of the powdered terraces, remained black—for the snowcould not rest upon them.The very outline of the mountain, too, confirmed the conjecturethat its structure would assist an ascent on the eastern face,although it opposed one on all other sides. Look at any photographof the peak from the north-east (or, failing one, the outline facingpage 230, which is carefully traced from one), and you will seethat upon the right-hand side (that facing; the Z'Muttgletscher)there is an incessant repetition of overhanging cliffs, and of slopesall trending downwards ; in short, that the character of the wholeof that side is similar to Fig, 1, p. 229 ; and that upon the lefthand (or south-east) ridge, the forms, as far as they go, are suggestiveof the structure: of Fig. 2. There is no doubt that thecontours of the mountain, seen from "this direction, have beenlargely influenced by the direction of its beds.It was not, therefore, from a freak, that I invited Mr. Keillyto join in an attack upon the "eastern face, but from a graduallyacquiredconviction that it would prove to give the easiest path tothe summit ; and, if we had hot been obliged to part, the mountainwould, doubtless, have been ascended in 1864.My guides readily admitted that they had been greatly deceivedas to the steepness of the eastern face, when they were halted tolook" at it in profile, as we came down the Z'Muttgletscher, on ourway to Zermatt ; but they were far from being satisfied that itwould turn out to be easy to climb, and Aimer and Biener expressedthemselves decidedly averse to making an attempt upon it.I gave way temporarily before their evident reluctance, and wemade the ascent of the Théodulhorn to examine an alternativeroute, which I expected would commend itself to them in preferenceto the other, as a great part of it led over snow.There is an immense gully in the Matterhorn, which leadsup from the Glacier du Mont Cervin to a point high up on the

232 TEE ASCENT. OF TBE MATTERBORN. - CHAP..XIV.south-eastern ridgé.* ' I proposed to ascend this to its head," and tocross over the south-east ridge on to the.eastern face. This wouldhave brought us oh a level with'the bottom"of thè great snow-slopeshown upon thecentre of the eastern face in thè engraving.facingp. 227. This snow-slope, was to be crossed diagonally, with'.theview of arriving at the show upon the north-east ridge, which isshown upon the same engraving, about. half-an-inch from thesummit.' The remainder of thè ascent, was to be made by thebroken rocks, mixed with show, upon the north side of the mountain..Croz .caught the idea immediately, and thought the planfeasible;.details were settled, and.we descended tò Breil. LucMeynet, the hunchback, was summoned, and. expressed'- himselfdelighted to resume his old vocation of tent-bearer; and Favre'skitchen was soon in commotion preparing three days' rations, iorI intended to take that amount of time over the affair—to sleepon the first night upon the rocks at the top of the gully ; to makea push, for thè summit, and to. return to the tent on the secondday; and upon the third to.come back to Brèil.... .; • ' i '•'\< i' .' We started at 5.45 A.M. on June 21, and followed the route ofthe!Breuiljocht for three" hours. ' .We "were then in full view ofour gully, and turned off at right angles.for. it. Thè closer weapproached, the more favourable did it look. There was a gooddeal ofsnow in it, which was evidently at a small, angle, and itseemed äs if one-third of the ascent, at least, would be a verysimple matter. Some '.suspicious" marks in the snow: at its basesuggested that it was hot free from falling stones, and, as a measureof precaution, we turned off ori one side, worked up under cover ofthe. cliffs, and waited to see if anything should descend. Nothingfell, so we proceeded up. its "right or northern side, sometimescutting steps up the snow and sometimes mounting by thé! rocks;Shortly before 10 A.M. wè arrived at a convenient place for a halt,r * Its position is shown by" the letter F,, on "the right of. thè outline, on p. 85.See also Map of the "Matterhorn and its Glaciers. —- f Seep. 94." '...'.'.;:.'.'. ' . * . . ; . :

CHAP. xrv. " SAUVE QUI PEUT!" 233and stopped toi rest upon some" rocks, immediately close -to; theshow, which commanded an excellent view of the gully."- While the men" were unpacking the food I went to a littlepromontory to examine our proposed route more narrowly, and toadmire our noble couloir, which led straight up into the heart ofthe mountain for fully one thousand feet. It then bent towardsthe north, and'ran up to the crest of the south-eastern ridge. Mycuriosity was .piqued tó know what was.round this corner, andwhilst'I was gazing up at it, and following with the eye theexquisitely drawn curves which wandered down the show in thegully, all converging tò a large rut in its centre, I saw a.few littlestones skidding down. I consoled myself with thinking that theywould not interfere with us if we adhered to the side. But then alarger one came down, a solitary fellow, rushing at the rate of sixtymiles an hour—and another—-and another. I was unwilling toraise the fears of the men unnecessarily, and said nothing to them.They did not hear the stones. Aimer was seated on a rock, carvinglarge slices from a leg of mutton, the others were chatting, and thefirst intimation they had of danger was from a crash—a suddenroar—which reverberated awfully amongst the cliffs, and, lookingup, they saw masses of rocks, boulders and stones, big and little, dartround the corner eight hundred feet or so above us, flywith fearfulfury against the opposite cliffs, rebound from them against thewalls on our side, and descend; some ricochetting from side toside in a frantic manner; some bounding down in leaps of ahundred feet or more over the snow ; and others trailing down ina jumbled, confused mass, mixed with snow and ice, deepeningthe.grooves which, a moment before, had excited'my admiration.The men looked wildly around for protection, and, dropping thefood, dashed under cover in all directions. The precious muttonwas pitched on ohe side, thè wine-bag was let fall,jmd its contentsgushed; out from the unclosed neck, whilst all four cowered underdefending rocks, r endeavouring to. make theinselyes.as'small aspossible. Let it not be supposed that their fright was unreason-

234 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. XIV.able, or that I was free from it. I took good care to make myselfsafe, and went and cringed in a cleft until the storm had passed.But their scramble to get under shelter was indescribably ludicrous.Such a panic I have never witnessed, before or since,upon a mountain-side.*This ricochet practice was a novelty to me. It arose, of course,from the couloir being bent, and from the falling rocks havingacquired great pace before they passed the angle. In straightgullies it will, probably, never be experienced. The rule is, as Ihave already remarked, that falling stones keep down the centresof gullies, and they are out of harm's way if one follows the sides.MY TENT-BEARER—THEHUNCHBACK.There would have been singularly little amusement, and verygreat risk, in mounting this gully, and we turned our backs uponit with perfect unanimity. The question then arose, " What isto be done?" I suggested climbing the rocks above us, but thiswas voted impossible. I thought the men were right, yet wouldnot give in without being assured of the fact, and clambered up to* See Frontispiece.

CHAP. xrv. REPULSED. 235settle the question. In a few minutes I was brought to a halt. Myforces were scattered ; the little hunchback alone was closely followingme—with a broad grin upon his face, and the tent upon hisshoulder; Croz, more behind, was still keeping an eye upon hisMonsieur; Aimer, a hundred feet below, sat on a rock with hisface buried in his hands ; Biener was nowhere, out of sight. " Comedown, come down," shouted Croz ; " it is useless," and I turned atlength, convinced that it was even as he said. Thus my little planwas knocked on the head, and we were thrown back upon theoriginal scheme.We at once made a straight track for Mr. Morshead's Breuiljoch*(which was the most direct route to take in order to get to theHörnli, where we intended to sleep, preparatory to attacking theeastern face), and arrived upon its summit at 12.30 P.M. We werethen unexpectedly checked. The pass, as one, had vanished ! andwe found ourselves cut off from the Furggengletscher by a smallbut precipitous wall of rock;—the glacier had shrunk so muchthat descent was impracticable. During the last hour clouds hadbeen coming up from the south; they now surrounded us, and itbegan to blow hard. The men clustered together, and advocatedleaving the mountain alone. Aimer asked, with more point thanpoliteness, " Why don't you try to go up a mountain which can beascended ? " " It is impossible," chimed in Biener. " Sir," saidCroz, " if we cross to the other side we shall lose three days, andvery likely shall not succeed. You want to make ascents in thechain of Mont Blanc, and I believe they can be made. But Ishall not be able to make them with you if I spend these dayshere, for I must be at Chamounix on the 27th." There was forcein what he said, and his words made me hesitate. I relied uponhis strong arms for some work which it was expected would beunusually difficult. Snow began to fall; that settled the matter,and I gave the word to retreat. We went back to Breil, and onto the village of Val Tournanche, .where we slept ; and the next. .*.See note top. 95. . /

236 THE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEORN. CHAP. XIV.day proceeded to Chatillon, and thence ùp thè .Valley of Aosta toCourmayeur. *'I cannot but regret that the counsels of the guides prevailed!If Croz had not uttered his well-intentioned words, he might stillhave bèen'living. He parted from us at Chamounix at the appointedtime, but by a strange chance we met again at ^Zermatt threeweeks later, and two days afterwards he perished before my eyeson* the very mountain from which we turned away, at his advice,on the 21st of "June.Ön June 23 we mounted to the top of Mont Saxe, to scan theGrandes Jorasses, with the view of ascending it. Five thousandfeet of glacier-covered precipices rose above us, and up all thatheight we tracked a way to Our satisfaction. Three thousand feetmore." of glacier and forest-covered slopes lay beneath, and there,there was only one point at which it was doubtful if we shouldfind a path. The glaciers were shrinking, and were surroundedby bastions of rounded rock, far too polished to please the roughmountaineer. We could not track a'way across them.' However,at 4 A.M. the next day, under the dexterous leading of Michel Croz^we passed the doubtful spot. Thiehce. it was all plain sailing, andat 1 P.M. we gained the summit. The weather was boisterous in thèupper, regions, and storm-clouds driven before the wind, and wreckedagainst our heights, enveloped us in misty spray, which dancedaround and fled away, which cut us off from the material universe,and caused us tó be, as it were, suspended betwixt heaven andearth, seeing both occasionally/but seeming to belong to neither."The mists lasted longer than my patience, and we descendedwithout having attained the object for which the ascent was made.At first we followed the little ridge shown upon the accompanyingengraving, leading from our summit towards the spectator, andthen took to thè head of the corridor of glacier on its left, which inthe view is left perfectly white. : The slopes were steep and coveredwith new-fallen snow, flour-like and evil to tread upon. On the

CHAP. XIV. DESCENT OF TEE GRANDES JOUASSES. 237ascent we had reviled it, and had made our staircase with muchcaution, knowing full well that the disturbance of its base wouldTHK GRANDES JORASS3ES AND THE DOIRK TORRKNT, FROM THH ITALIAN VAI. FERRET.bring down all that was above. In descending, the bolder spiritscounselled trusting to luck and a glissade ; the cautious ones advo-

238 : TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEORN. CHAP. xiv.c'ated avoiding the slopes and crossing to the rocks on their fartherside. . The "advice of the latter prevailed, and we had half-travérsedthe snow, to gain the ridge, when the crust slipped and we wentalong with it. " Halt ! " broke from all four, unanimously. Theaxe-heads flew round as we started on this involuntary glissade.It was useless, they slid over the underlying ice fruitlessly. " Halt !"thundered Croz, as he dashed his weapon in again with superhumanenergy. No halt could be made, and we slid down slowly, butwith accelerating motion, driving up waves of snow in front, withstreams of the nasty stuff hissing all around. Luckily, the slopeeased off at one place, the leading men cleverly jumped aside outof the moving snow, we others followed, and the young avalanchewhich we had started, continuing tò pour down, fell into a yawningcrevasse, and showed us where our grave would have been if wehad remained in its company five seconds longer. The whole affairdid not occupy half-a-minnte. It was the solitary incident of along day, and at nightfall we re-entered the excellent house keptby the courteous Bertolini, well satisfied that we had not met withmore incidents of a similar description.** The ascent of the Grandes Jorasses was made to obtain a view of the upper partof the Aig. Verte, and upon that account the westernmost summit was selected inpreference to the highest one. Both summits are shown upon the accompanyingengraving. That on the right is (as it appears to be) the highest. That upon its leftis the one which we ascended, and is about 100 feet lower than the other. A coupleof days after our ascent, Henri Grati, Julien Grange, Jos. Mar. Perrod, Alexis Clusaz,and Daniel Gex (all of Courmayeur), followed our traces to the summit in order toleom the way. As far as my observation extends, such things are seldom done bymoney-grasping or spiritless guides, and I have much pleasure in being able tomention their names. The highest point (13,799) was ascended on June 29-30,1868, by Mr. Horace Walker, with the guides Melchior Anderegg, J. Jaun, andJulien Grange.

CHAPTEB XV.THE FIRST PASSAGE OF THE COL DOLENT. •"Men willingly believe what they wish."—GasAH. 'FBEETHTNKING mountaineers have been latterly in the habit of goingup one side of an Alp and coming down the other, and calling theroute a pass. In this confusion of ideas may be recognised the resultof the looseness of thought which arises from the absence oftechnical education. The true believer abhors .such heresies, andobserves with satisfaction that Providence oftentimes punishes theoffenders for their greediness by causing them to be benighted.The faithful know that passes must be made between mountains,and not over their tops. Their creed declares that between anytwo mountains there must be a pass, and they believe that the endfor which big peaks were created—the office they are especiallydesigned to fulfil—is to point out the way one should go. Thisis the true faith, and there is no other.We set out upon the 26th of June to endeavour to add one moreto the passes which are strictly orthodox. We hoped, rather thanexpected, to discover a quicker route from Courmayeur to Chamounixthan the Col du Géant, which was the easiest, quickest, andmost direct pass known at the time across the main chain of MontBlanc* The misgivings which I had as to the result caused us tostart at the unusual hour of 12.40 A.M. At 4.30 we passed thechalets of Prè du Bar, and thence, for some distance, followed thetrack which we had made upon the ascent of Mont Dolent, over the* The view of Mont Blanc from a gorge on the south of the Italian Val Ferret,mid-way between the villages of La Vachey and Praz Sec, and about 3000 feet abovethem, is, in my opinion, the finest which can be obtained of that mountain rangeanywhere upon the Italian side. . ;

240 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEREOBN. ' CHAP. XV.glacier of the same name (p. 182). At a quarter past 8 wearrived at the head of the glacier, and at the foot of the onlysteep gradient upon the whole of the ascent.It was the beau-ideal'of a pass. ..There was a gap in the mountains,with a big peak on each side (Mount Dolent and the Aig. deTriolet). A narrow thread bf show led up to the lowest pointbetween those mountains, and the blue sky beyond said, Directlyyou arrive here you will begin to gó down. We addressed ourselvesto our task; and at 10.15 A.M. arrived at the top of the pass.' ; Had things gone as they ought, within six hours more we shouldhave been at Chamounix. Upon the other side we knew that therewas a couloir in correspondence with that up which we had justCome. If it had been filled with snow all would' have been well.It turned out to be filled with ice. Croz, who led, passed oyer tothe other side, and reported that we should get down somehow, butI knew from the sound of his axe how the somehow would be, andsettled myself to sketch, well assured that I should not be wantedfor an hour to come. What I saw is shown in the engraving. Asharp aiguille (nameless), perhaps the sharpest in the whole range,backed, on the left by the Aig. de Triolet ; queer blocks of (probably)protogine sticking out awkwardly through the show; and a hugecornice from which big icicles depended, that broke away occasionallyand went skiddlingdown the slope up which we had come..Of the Argentière side I could not see anything.Croz was tied up with our good Manilla rope, and the whole 200feet were payed out gradually by Aimer and Biener before he ceasedWorking. After two hours'incessant toil, he was able to anchorhimself to the rock on his right. He then untied himself, the ropewas drawn in, Biener was attached to the end and went down tojoin his comrade. There was then room enough for me to stand bythe side of Aimer, and I got my first view of the other side. Forthe first and only time in my life I looked down a slope more thana thousand feet long, set at an angle of about 50°, which was a sheetof ice from top to bottom. It was unbroken by rock or crag, and

CHAP. xv. THE COL DOLENT. '241anything thrown down it sped away unarrested until the level ofTHE SUMMIT OP THE COL DOLENTthe Glacier d'Argentière was reached. The entire basin ofthat noble

242 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEREORN. CHAP. XV.glacier * was spread out at our feet, and the ridge beyond, culminatingin the Aig. d'Argentière, was seen to the greatest advantage.I confess, however, that I paid very little attention to the view, forthere was no time to indulge in such luxuries. I descended theicy staircase and joined the others, and then we three drew in therope tenderly as Aimer came down. His was not an enviable position,but he descended with as much steadiness as if his whole lifehad been passed on ice-slopes of 50°. The process was repeated ;Croz again going to the front, and availing himself very skilfully ofthe rocks which projected from the cliff on our right. Our 200 feetof rope again came to an end, and we again descended one by one.From this point we were able to clamber down by the rocks alonefor about 300 feet. They then became sheer cliff, and we stoppedfor dinner, about 2.30 P.M., at the last place upon which we couldsit. Four hours' incessant work had brought us rather more thanhalf-way down the gully. We were now approaching, although wewere still high above, the schrunds at its base, and the guides madeout, in some way unknown to me, that Nature had perversely placedthe only snow-bridge across the topmost one towards the centre ofthe gully. It was decided to cut diagonally across the gully to thepoint where the snow-bridge was supposed to be. Aimer and Bienerundertook the work, leaving Croz and myself firmly planted onthe rocks to pay out the rope to them as they advanced.It is generally admitted that veritable ice-slopes (understanding' by ice something more than a crust of hard snow over soft snow)are only rarely met with in the Alps. They are frequently spokenof, hut such as that to which I refer are very rarely seen, and stillmore seldom traversed. It is, however, always possible that theymay be encountered, and on this account, if for no other, it isnecessary for men who go mountaineering to be armed with iceaxes,and with good ones. The form is of more importance than* The next generation may witness its extinction. The portion of it seen fromthe village of Argentière was in 1869 at least one quarter less in width than it wasten years earlier.

CHAP. XV. ON ICE-AXES. 243might be supposed. Of course, if you intend to act as a simpleamateur, and let others do the work, and only follow in their steps,it is not of much importance what kind of ice-axe you carry, solong as its head does not fall off, or otherwise behave itself improperly.*There is no better weapon for cutting steps in ice thana common pick-axe, and the form of ice-axe which is now usuallyemployed by the best guides is very like a miniature pick. Myown axe is copied from Melchior Anderegg's. It is of wrought iron,with point and edgesteeled. Its weight,including spikedhandle, is fourpounds. For cuttingsteps in ice,the pointed end ofthe head is almostexclusively employed; the adzeendis handy forpolishing them up,but is principallyused for cutting inhard snow. Apartfrom its value as acutting weapon, itis invaluable as agrapnel. It is naturrallya rather awkward implement when it is not being employedfor its legitimate purpose, and is likely to give rise to much stronglanguage in crushes at railway termini, unless its head is protectedwith a leathern cap, or in some other way. Many attempts have* This observation is not made without reason. I have seen the head of one tumbleon* at a slight tap, in consequence of its handle having been perforated by as ingeniousbui useless arrangement of nails.B 2

244 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. XV.been made, for the sake of convenience, to fashion an ice-axe witha movable head, but it seems difficult or impossible to produce oneexcept at the expense of cutting qualities, and by increasing theweight.Mr. T. S. Kennedy (ofCo.), whose practical aceering,and with the usemakes his opinion partrivedthe best that I haveto me to be deficient inpowerful a weapon as the?KENNEDY ICE-AXE.the firm of Fairbairn &quaintancewith mountainandmanufacture of tools,ticularly valuable, has conseen; but even it seemsrigidity, and not to be somore common kind withpie instrument which isthe fixed head. The simshown in the annexed diagram is the invention of Mr. LeslieStephen, and it answersthe purposes forwhich he devised it,namely, for giving betterhold upon snowTHE " LESLIE STEPHEN" AXE.and ice than can beobtained from the common alpenstock, and for cutting an occasionalstep. The amateur scarcely requires anything more imposing,but for serious ice-work a heavier weapon is indispensable.To persons armed with the proper tools, ice-slopes are not sodangerous as many places which appeal less to the imagination.Their ascent or descent is necessarily laborious (to those who do thework), and they may therefore be termed difficult. They ought notto be dangerous. Yet they always seem dangerous, for one is profoundlyconvinced that if he slips he will certainly go to the bottom.Hence, any man, who is not a fool, takes particular care to preservehis balance, and, in consequence, we have the noteworthy

CHAP. XV. ON CRAMPONS. 245fact that accidents have seldom or never taken place upon iceslopes.The same slopes covered with snow are much less impressive,and may be much more dangerous. They may be less slippery, thebalance may be more easily preserved, and if one man slips he maybe stopped by his own personal efforts, provided the snow whichover-lies the ice is consolidated and of a reasonable depth. But if,as is more likely to be the case upon an angle of 50° (or anythingapproaching that angle), there is only a thin stratum of snow whichis not consolidated, the occurrence of a slip will most likely takethe entire party as low as possible, and in addition to the chance ofbroken necks, there will be a strong probability that some, at least,will be smothered by the dislodged snow. Such accidents are fartoo common, and their occurrence, as a rule, may be traced to thowant of caution which is induced by the apparent absence of danger.I do not believe that the use of the rope, in the ordinary way,affords the least ra/? security upon ice-slopes. Nor do I think thatany benefit is derived from the employment of crampons. Mr.Kennedy was good enough to present me with a pair some timeago, and one of these has beenengraved. They are the bestvariety I have seen of thespecies, but I only feel comfortablewith them on my feetin places where they are notof the slightest use, that is insituations where there is nopossibility of slipping, and would not wear them upon an ice-slope forany consideration whatever. All such adventitious aids are uselessif you have not a good step in the ice to stand upon, and if you havegot that, nothing more is wanted except a few nails in the boots.Aimer and Biener got to the end of their tether ; the rope nolonger assured their safety, and they stopped work as we advancedand coiled it up. Shortly afterwards they struck a streak of snow

246 THÉ ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. xv.that proved to be just above the bridge of which they were insearch. The slope steepened, and for thirty feet or so we descendedface to the wall, making steps by kicking with the toes, and thrustingthe arms well into the holes above, just as if they'had beenrounds in a ladder. At this time we were crossing the uppermostof the schrunds. Needless to say that the snow was of an admirablequality; this performance would otherwise have been impossible.It was soon over, and we then found ourselves upon a hugerhomboidal mass of ice, and still separated from the Argentièreglacier by a gigantic crevasse. The only bridge over this lowerschrund was at its eastern end, and we were obliged to double backto get to it. Cutting continued for half-an-hour after it waspassed, and it was 5.35 P.M. before the axes stopped work, and wecould at last turn back and look comfortably at the formidableslope upon which seven hours had been spent.*The Col Dolent is not likely to compete with the Col duGéant, and I would recommend any person who starts to cross itto allow himself plenty of time, plenty of rope, and ample guidepower.There is no difficulty whatever upon any part of the route,excepting upon the steep slopes immediately below the summit oneach side. When we arrived upon the Glacier d'Argentière, ourwork was as good as over. We drove a straight track to the chaletsof Lognan, and thence the way led over familiar ground. Soonafter dusk we got into the high road at les Tines, and at 10 P.M.arrived at Chamounix. Our labours were duly rewarded. Hourisbrought us champagne and the other drinks which are reservedfor the faithful, but before my share was consumed I fell asleep inan arm-chair. I slept soundly until daybreak, and then turnedinto bed and went to sleep again.* I estimate its height at 1200 feet. Tho triangulation of Capt. Mieulet placesthe summit of the pass 11,624 feet above tho sea. This, I think, is rather too high.

CHAPTElî XVI.THE FIRST ASCENT OF THE AIGUILLE VERTE." Few have the fortitude of soul to. honour,A friend's success, without a touch of envy."iEsCHTLUS.MICHEL CROZ now parted from us. His new employer had notarrived at Chamounix, but Croz considered that he was bound byhonour to wait for him, and thus_Christian Aimer, of Grindelwald,became my leading guide.Aimer displayed aptitude for mountaineering at an early age.Whilst still a very young man he was known as a crack chamoishunter,and he soon developed into an accomplished guide. Thosewho have read Mr. Wills' graphic account of the first ascent of theWetterhorn* will remember that, when his party was approachingthe top of the mountain, two stranger men were seen climbing bya slightly different route, one of whom carried upon his back ayoung fir-tree, branches, leaves, and all. Mr. Wills' guides wereextremely indignant with these two strangers (who were evidentlydetermined to be the first at the summit), and talked of givingthem blows. Eventually they gave them a cake of chocolateinstead, and declared that they were good fellows. "Thus thepipe of peace was smoked, and tranquillity reigned between therival forces." Christian Aimer was one of these two men.This was in 1854. In 1858-9 he made the first ascents of theEigher and the Mönch, the former with a Mr. Harrington (?), andthe latter with Dr. Porges. Since then he has wandered far and* Wanderings among the High Alps, 1858.

248 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTERHORN. CHAP. XVI.near, from Dauphiné to the Tyrol.* With the exception ofMelchior Anderegg, there is not, perhaps, another guide of suchwide experience, or one who has been so invariably successful;and his numerous employers concur in saying that there is not atruer heart or a surer foot to be found amongst the Alps.CHRISTIANALMER.tBefore recrossing the chain to Courmayeur, we ascended theAiguille Verte. In company with Mr. Beilly I inspected thismountain from every direction in 18G4, and came to the conclusionthat an ascent could more easily be made from the south thanupon any other side. We set out upon the 28th from Chamounixto attack it, minus Croz, and plus a porter (of whom I will speakmore particularly presently), leaving our comrade very downcastat having to kick his heels in idleness, whilst we were about toscale the most celebrated of his native Aiguilles.Our course led us over the old Mer de Glace—the glacier madefamous by De Saussure and Forbes. The heat of the day was• Most of his principal exploits are recorded in the publications of the Alpine Club.t Engraved, by permission, from a photograph by Mr. E. Edwards.

CHAP. xvi. ON THE MER DE GLACE. 249over, but the little rills and rivulets were still flowing along thesurface of the ice : cutting deep troughs where the gradients weresmall ; leaving ripple-marks where the water was with more difficultyconfined to one channel ; and falling over the precipitouswalls of the great crevasses, sometimes in bounding cascades, andsometimes in diffused streams, which marked the perpendicularON THE MEK DE GLACE.faces with graceful sinuosities.* As night came on, their musicdied away, the rivulets dwindled down to rills ; the rills ceased tomurmur, and the sparkling drops, caught by the hand of frost,were bound to the ice, coating it with an enamelled film whichlasted until the sun struck the glacier once more.* Admirably rendered in the accompanying drawing by Mr. Cyrus Johnson.

250 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTERBORN. CHAP, XVXWo camped on the Couvercle (7800) under a great rock, and at3.15 the next morning started for our aiguille, leaving the porterin charge of the tent and of the food. Two hours' walking overcrisp snow brought us up more than 4000 feet, and within about1600 feet of the summit. From no other direction can it beapproached so closely with equal facility. Thence the mountainsteepens« • After his late severe piece of ice-work, Aimer had anatural inclination for rocks; but the lower rocks of the finalpeak of the Verte were not inviting, and he went on and on,looking for a way up them, until we arrived in front of a great snowcouloir that led from the Glacier de Talèfre right up to the crestof the ridge connecting the summit of the Verte with the mountaincalled Les Droites. This was the route which I intended to betaken; but Aimer pointed out that the gully narrowed at thelower part, and that, if stones fell, we should stand some chanceof getting our heads broken ; and so we went on still more to theeast of the summit, to another and smaller couloir which ran upside by side with the great one. At 5.30 we crossed the schrundwhich protected tho final peak, and, a few minutes afterwards,saw the summit and the whole of the intervening route. " Oh IAiguille Verte," said my guide, stopping as he said it, " you aredead, you are dead ; " which, being translated into plain English,meant that he was cock-sure we should make its ascent.Aimer is a quiet man at all times. When climbing he istaciturn—and this is one of his great merits. A garrulous manis always a nuisance, and upon the mountain-side he may be adanger, for actual climbing requires a man's whole attention.Added to this, talkative men are hindrances; they are usuallythirsty, and a thirsty man is a drag.Guide-books recommend mountain-walkers to suck pebbles, toprevent their throats from becoming parched. There is not muchgoodness to be got out of the pebbles ; but you cannot suck themand keep tho mouth open at the same time, and hence tho throatdoes not become dry. It answers just as well to keep tho mouth

CHAP. xvi. ASCENT OF TEE AIGUILLE VERTE. 231shut, without any pebbles inside,—indeed, I think, better ; for ifyou have occasion to open your mouth, you can do so withoutswallowing any pebbles.* As a rule, amateurs, and particularlynovices, will not keep their mouths shut. They attempt to " forcethe pace," they go faster than they can go without being compelledto open their mouths to breathe, they pant, their throats andtongues become parched, they drink and perspire copiously, and,becoming exhausted, declare that the dryness of the air, or therarefaction of the air (everything is laid upon the air), is in fault.* On several accounts, therefore, a mountain-climber does well tohold his tongue when he is at his work.At the top of the small gully we crossed over the interveningrocks into the large one, and followed it so long as it was filledwith snow. At last ice replaced snow, and we turned over to thérocks upon its left. Charming rocks they were; granitic intexture,t gritty, holding the nails well. At 9.45 wo parted fromthem, and completed the ascent by a little ridge of snow whichdescended in the direction of the Aiguille du Moine. At 10.15 wostood on the summit (13,540), and devoured our bread and cheesewith a good appetite.I have already spoken of the disappointing nature of purelypanoramic views. That seen from Mont Blanc itself is notoriouslyunsatisfactory. When you are upon that summit you look downupon all the rest of Europe. There is nothing to look up to ; allis below ; there is no one point for the eye to rest upon. Theman who is there is somewhat in the position of one who hasattained all that he desires,—he has nothing to aspire to; hisposition must needs be unsatisfactory. Upon the summit of theVerte there is not this objection. You see valleys, villages, fields ;* I heard lately of two well-known mountaineers who, ander tho influence ofsudden alarm, swallowed their crystals. I am happy to say that they were able tocough thcra up again.t Hand specimens of tho highest rocks of tho Aiguille Verio cannot be distinguishedfrom granite. Tho rock is almost identical in quality with that at the summitof Moût Dolent, and is probably u granitoid gneiss.

252 TBE ASCENT OF TEE MATTERBORN. CHAP. XVI.you see mountains interminable rolling away, lakes resting intheir hollows ; you hear the tinkling of the sheep-bells as it risesthrough the clear mountain air, and the roar of the avalanches asthey descend to the valleys : but above all there is the great whitedome, with its shining crest high above ; with its sparkling glaciersthat descend between buttresses which support them: with itsbrilliant'snows, purer and yet purer the farther they are removedfrom this unclean world.*Even upon this mountain-top it was impossible to forget theworld, for some vile wretch came to the Jardin and made hideoussounds by blowing through a horn. Whilst we were denouncinghim a change came over the weather ; cumulons clouds gathered inall directions, and we started off in hot haste. Snow began to fallheavily before we were off the summit-rocks, our track was obscuredand frequently lost, and everything became so sloppy and slipperythat the descent took as long as the ascent. The schrund was recrossedat 3.15 P.M., and thence we raced down to the Couvercle,intending to have a carouse there ; but as we rounded our rock ahowl broko simultaneously from all three of us, for the porter hadtaken down the tent, and was in tho act of moving off with it." Stop, there ! what are you doing ? " He observed that he hadthought we were killed, or at least lost, and was going to Chamounixto communicate his ideas to the guide chef. " Unfasten the tent,and get out the food." Instead of doing so the porter fumbled inhis pockets. " Get out the food," we roared, losing all patience." Hero it is," said our worthy friend, producing a dirty piece ofbread about as big as a halfpenny roll. We three looked solemnlyat tho fluff-coveredmorsel. It was past a joko,—he had devouredeverything. Mutton, loaves, cheese, wine, eggs, sausages—all wasgone—past recovery. It was idle to grumble, and useless to wait.Wo were light, and could move quickly,—the porter was laden• Tho summit of tho Aiguillo Verte was a snowy dome, large enough for aquadrille. I was surprised to sec the great height of Les Droites. Captain Mieuletplaces its summit at 13,222 feet, but I thiuk it must be very slightly lower thau theVerte itself.

CHAP. xvi. TEE NOBLE ATTITUDE OF CEAMOUNIX. 253inside and out. We went our hardest,—he had to shuffle and trot.He streamed with perspiration ; the mutton and cheese oozed out.in big drops,—he larded the glacier. We had our revenge, anddried our clothes at the same time, but when we arrived at theMontanvert the porter was as wet as we had been upon our arrivalat the Couvercle. We halted at the inn to get a little food, and ata quarter past eight re-entered Chamounix, amidst firing of cannonand other demonstrations of satisfaction on the part of the hotelkeepers.One would have thought that the ascent of this mountain,which had been frequently assailed before without success, wouldhave afforded some gratification to a population whose chiefsupport is derived from tourists, and that the prospect of theperennial flow of francs which might bo expected to result fromit would have stifled the jealousy consequent on the success offoreigners.*It was not so. Chamounix stood on its rights. A strangerhad ignored the " regulations," had imported two foreign guides,and, furthermore, he had added injury to that insult—he had nottaken a single Chamounix guide. Chamounix would be revenged !It would bully the foreign guides ; it would tell them they hadlied,—that they had not made the ascent! Where were theirproofs? Where was the flag upon the summit?Poor Aimer and Biener were accordingly chivied from pillar topost, from one inn to another, and at length complained to me.Peter Perm, the Zermatt guide, said on the night that we returnedthat this was to happen, but the story seemed too absurd to botrue. I now bade my men go out again, and followed themmyself to see tho sport. Chamounix was greatly excited. Thobureau of tho guide clief was thronged with clamouring men.Their ringleader—one Zacharie Cachât—a well-known guide, ofno particular merit, but not a bad fellow, was haranguing tho* The Chamounix tariff price for the ascent of the Aiguille is now placed at £4per guiile.

254 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEOBN. CHAP. XVI.multitude. He met with more than his match. My friendKennedy, who was on the spot, heard of the disturbance andrushed into tho fray, confronted the burly guide, and thrust backhis absurdities into his teeth.There were the materials for a very pretty riot ; but they managothese things better in France than wë do, and tho gensdarmcs—three strong—came down and dispersed the crowd. The guidesquailed before the cocked hats, and retired to cabarets to take littleglasses of absinthe and other liquors more or less injurious to thehuman frame. Under the influence of these stimulants, they conceivedan idea which combined revenge with profit. "You haveascended the Aiguille Verte, you say. We say we don't believe it.We say, do it again ! Take three of us with you, and we will betyou two thousand francs to one thousand, that you won't makethe ascent ! "This proposition was formally notified to me, but I declined it,with thanks,. and recommended Kennedy to go in and win. Iaccepted, however, a hundred franc share in the bet, and calculatedupon getting two hundred per cent, on my investment. Alas !how vain are human expectations ! Zacharie Cachât was put intoconfinement, and although Kennedy actually ascended the Aiguillea week later, with two Chamounix guides and Peter Perm, the betcame to nothing.*Tho weather arranged itself just as this storm in a teapot blewover, and we left at once for the Montanvert, in order to show theChamouniards the easiest way over tho chain of Mont Blanc, inreturn for the civilities which we had received from them duringthe past three days.* It should be said that we received the most polite apologies for this affair fromtho chief of tho gensdarmcs, and an invitation to lodge a complaint against the ringleaders."Wo accepted his apologies, and declined his invitation. Needless to adii,Michel Croz took no part in tho demonstration.

WESTERN SIDE OF THE COL DE TALEFRE.CHAPTEB XVII.THE FIRST PASSAGE OF THE COL DE TALÈFRE." 'Tis more by art than force of numerous strokes."HOMER.THE person who discovered the Col du Géant must have been ashrewd mountaineer. The pass was in use before any other wasknown across the main chain of Mont Blanc, and down to thepresent time it remains the easiest and quickest route from Chamounixto Courmayeur, with the single exception of the pass thatwe crossed upon the 3d of July, for the first time, which liesabout mid-way between the Aiguille de Triolet and the Aiguille deTalèfre, and which, for want of a better name, I have called the Colde Talèfre.When one looks toward the upper end of the Glacier de Talèfrefrom the direction of the Jardin or of the Couvercle, the ridge thatbounds the view seems to be of little elevation. It is overpoweredby the colossal Grandes Jorasses, and by the almost equally magnificentAiguille Verte. The ridge, notwithstanding, is by no meansdespicable. At no point is its elevation less than 11,(500 feet. It

256 TBE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEREORN. CHAP. xvn.does not look anything like this height. The Glacier de Talèfremounts with a steady incline, and the eye is completely deceived.In 1864, when prowling about with Mr. Beilly, I instinctively .fixed upon a bent couloir which led up from the glacier to thelowest part of the ridge; and when, after crossing the Col deTriolet, I saw that the other side presented no particular difficulty,it seemed to me that this was the one point in the whole of therange which would afford an easier passage than the Col du Géant.We set out from the Montanvert at 4 A.M. upon July 3, to seewhether this opinion was correct, and it fortunately happened thatthe Bev. A. G. Girdlestono and a friend, with two Chamounixguides, left the inn at the same hour as ourselves, to cross the Coldû Géant. We kept in company as far as our routes lay together,and at 9.35 we arrived at the top of our pass, having taken theroute to the south of the Jardin. Description is unnecessary, asour track is laid down very clearly on the engraving at the headof this chapter.Much snow had fallen during the late bad weather, and as woreposed upon the top of our pass (which was about 11,650 feetabove the level of the sea, and 600 feet above the Col du Géant),we saw that the descent of the rocks which intervened between nsand the Glacier de Triolet would require some caution, for the sun'srays poured down directly upon them, and the snow slipped awayovery now and then from ledge to ledge just as if it had beenwater,—in cascades not large enough to be imposing, but sufficientto knock us over if wo got in their way. This little bit of cliffconsequently took a longer time than it should have done, forwhen we heard the indcscribablo swishing, hissing sound whichannounced a coming fall, we of necessity huddled under the lee ofthe rocks until the snow ceased to shoot over us.We got to the level of the Glacier do Triolet without misadventure,then steered for its left bank to avoid the upper of its twoformidable ice-falls, and after descending the requisite distance bysome old snow lying between the glacier and the cliffs which border

CTIAP. XVII. GLISSADING. 257it, crossed directly to the right bank over the level ice between thetwo ice-falls.* The right bank was gained without any trouble,and we found there numerous beds of hard snow (avalanche débris)down which we could run or glissade as fast as we liked.Glissading is a very pleasant employment when it is accomplishedsuccessfully, and I have never seen a place where it can bemore safely indulged in thanthe snowy valley on the rightbank of the Glacier de Triolet.In my dreams I glissade delightfully,but in practice Ifind that somehow the snowwill not behave properly, andthat my alpenstock will getbetween my legs. Then mylegs go where my head shouldbe, and I see the sky revolvingat a rapid pace; the snow rises\.up and smites me, and runsaway ; and when it is at last overtaken it suddenly stops, and wecome into violent collision. Those who are with me say that Itumble head over heels, and there may be some truth in what theysay. Streaks of ice are apt to make the heels shoot away, and straystones cause one to pitch headlong down. Somehow these thingsalways seem to come in the way, so it is as well to glissade onlywhen there is something soft to tumble into.tNear the termination of the glacier we could not avoid traversinga portion of its abominable moraine, but at 1.30 P.M. we were* Below the second iee-fttH the glacier is completely covered up with morainemutter, and if the left bank is followed, one is compelled either In traverse tinshowling waste or to lose much time upon the tedious and somewhat difficult rocks ofMont limige.t In glissading an erect position should be maintained, and thepoint of the alpenstockallowed to trail over the snow. K it is necessary to stop, or to slacken speed,the point is pressed againsl the Blope, as shown in the illustration.S

258 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEORN. cuAr. xvn.clear of it, and threw ourselves upon some springy turf consciousthat our day's work was over. An hour afterwards we resumedthe march, crossed the Doire torrent by a bridge a little belowGruetta, and at five o'clock entered Courmayeur, having occupiedsomewhat less than ten hours on the way. Mr. Girdlestone's partycame in, I believe, about four hours afterwards, so there was nodoubt^that we made a shorter pass than the Col du Géant; and Ibelieve we discovered a quicker way. of getting from Chamounix toCourmayeur, or vice versa, than will be found elsewhere, so long asthe chain of Mont Blanc remains in its present condition.** Comparison of tho Col do Triolet with the Col do Talèfre will show what a greatdifference in caso there may be between tracks which are nearly identical. For a distancoof several miles theso routes are scarcely more than lialf-a-milo apart. Nearlyevery step of tho former is difficult, whilst the latter has no difficulty whatever. Thoroute wo adopted over the Col de Talèfre may perhaps be improved. It may be possibleto go directly from the hood of the Glacier do Triolet to its right bank, and, ifso, at least thirty minutes might bo saved.The following is a list of the principal of tho passes across the main ridge oftho range of Mont Blanc, with the years in which the first passages were effected, asfar as I know them:—1. Col do Trelatete (1804), between Aig. du Glacier and Aig.de Trelatete. 2. Col do Miage, between Aig. do Miage and Aig. de Bionnassay. 3.Col du Dôme (1865), over tho Dôme du Goûter. 4. Col du Mont Blanc (1868), overMont Blanc. 5. Col de la Brcnva (18G5), between Mont Blanc and Mont BTandit6. Col de la Tour Bonde (1867), over la TOUT Bonde. 7. Col du Géant, between laTour Bondo and Aig». Marbrées. 8. Col des Grandes Jorasses (1873), between theGrandes and Petites Jorasses. 0. Col de Loschaux (1877), between tho Aig. dol'Eboulement and the Aig. do Leschaux. 10. Col Pierre Joseph (1866), over Aig.de l'Eboulement. 11. Col do Talèfre (1865), between Alga. Talèrro and Triolet12. Col do Triolet (1804), between Aigs. Talèrro and Triolet. 13. Col Dolent (1865),between Aig. do Triolet and Mont Dolent. 14. Col d'Argentièro (1861), betweenMont Dolent and la Tour Noire. 15. Col do la Tour Noire (1863), between theTour Noire and the Aig. d'Argentière. 16. Col dn Chardonnet (1803), betweenAigs. d'Argentiere and Chnnlonnct 17. Col du Tour.lwtwecn Aigs. du Chardonnetand Tour.

CHAPTEE XVIII.THE FIRST ASCENT OF THE RUINETTE—THE MATTERHORN." In almost every art, expérience is worth moro than precepts."QüIXTILIAN.ALL of the excursions that were set down in my programme hadbeen carried out, with the exception of the ascent of the Matterhorn,and we now turned our faces in its direction, bat instead ofreturning via the Val Tournanche, we took a route across country,and bagged upon our way the summit of the Euinette.We passed the night of July 4, at Aosta, under the roof of thogenial Tairraz, and on the 5th went by the Val d'Ollomont andthe Col de la Fenêtre (9140) to Chermontane. We slept thatnight at the chalets of Chanrion (a foul spot, which should beavoided), left them at 3.50 the next morning, and after a shortscramble over the slope above, and a half-mile tramp on the glacierde Breney, we crossed directly to the Euinette, and went almoststraight up it. There is not, I suppose, another mountain in theAlps of the same height that can be ascended so easily. You haveonly to go ahead: upon its southern side one can walk aboutalmost anywhere.Though I speak thus slightingly of a very respectable peak, Iwill not do anything of the kind in regard to tho view which itgives. It is. happily placed in respect to the rest of the PennineAlps, and as a stand-point it has not many superiors. You seemountains, and nothing but mountains. It is a solemn—somewould say a dreary—view, but it is very grand. The great Combin(14,164), with its noblo backgroundçpf the whole range of Monts 2*^ *

260 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEORN. CHAP. xvm.Blanc, never looks so big as it does from here. In the contrarydirection, the Matterhorn overpowers all besides. The Dentd'Hérens, although closer, looks a mere outlier of its great neighbour,and the snows of Monte Eosa, behind, seem intended for noother purpose than to give relief to the crags in front. To thesouth there is an endless array of Bee's and Becca's, backed by thegreat Italian peaks, whilst to the north Mont Pleureur (12,159)holds it own against the more distant Wildstrubel.We gained the summit at 9.15,* and stayed there an hour anda half. My faithful guides then admonished me that Prerayen,whither we were bound, was still far away, and that we had yet tocross two lofty ridges. So we resumed our harness and departed ;not, however, before a huge cairn had been built out of the blocksof gneiss with which the summit is bestrewn. Then we trotteddown the slopes of the Euinette, over the glacier de Breney, andacross a pass which (if it deserves a name) may be called the Coldes Portons, after the neighbouring peaks. Thence we proceededacross the great Otemma glacier towards the Col d'Olen.The part of the glacier that we traversed was overspread withsnow which completely concealed its numerous pitfalls. Womarched across it in single file, and, of course, roped together.All at once Aimer dropped into a crevasse up to his shoulders. Ipulled in tho rope immediately, but the snow gave way as it wasbeing done, and I had to spread put my arms to stop my descent.Biener held fast, and said afterwards, that his feet went through aswell ; so, for a moment, all three were in the jaws of the crevasse.We now altered our course, so as to take the fissures transversely,and changed it again after the centre of the glacier was passed,and made directly for the summit of the Col d'Olen.It is scarcely necessary to observe, after what I have said* After crossing the glacier do Breney, we ascended by some debris, and then bysome cliffy ground, to tho glacier which surrounds tho peak upon the south ; bore totho left (that is to tho west) and went up tho edgo of the glacier ; and lastly took totho arete of tho ridge which descends toward» the south-west, and followed it to thesummit (12,727).

CHAP. xvm. WET GUIDES OBJECT TO BE TIED ON GLACIERS. 201before, that it is my invariable practice to employ a rope whentraversing a snow-covered glacier. Many guides, even the bestones, object to be roped, more especially early in the morning, whenthe snow is hard. They object sometimes, because they think itis unnecessary. Crevasses that are bridged by snow are almostalways more or less perceptible by undulations on the surface; thesnow droops down, and hollows mark the courses of the chasmsbeneath. An experienced guide usually notices these almost imperceptiblewrinkles, steps one side or the other, as the case mayrequire, and rarely breaks through unawares. Guides think thereis no occasion to employ a rope because they think that they willnot be taken by surprise. Michel Croz used to be of this opinion.He used to say that only imbeciles and children required to betied up in the morning. I told him that in this particular matterI was a child to him. " You see these things, my good Croz, andavoid them. I do not, except you point them out to me, and sothat which is not a danger to you, t* a danger to me." Thesharper one's eyes get by use, the less is a rope required as a protectiveagainst these hidden pitfalls ; but, according to my experience,the sight never becomes so keen that they can bo avoidedwith unvarying certainty, and I mentioned what occurred uponthe Otemma glacier to show that this is so.. I well remember my first passage of the Col Théodule—theeasiest of the higher Alpine glacier passes. We had a rope, butmy guide said it was not necessary, he knew all the crevasses.However, we did not go a quarter of a mile before he droppedthrough the snow into a crevasse up to his neck. He was a heavyman, and would scarcely have extricated himself alone ; anyhow,he was very glad of my assistance. When he got on to his legsagain, he said, " Well, I had no idea that there was a crevassethere 1 " He no longer objected to use the rope, and we proceeded ;upon my part, with greater peace of mind than before. I havecrossed the pass fourteen times sinco then, and havo invariablyinsisted upon being tied together.

262 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEORN. CHAP. xvm.Guides object to the use of the rope upon snow-covered glacier,because they are afraid of being laughed at by their comrades;and this, perhaps, is the more common reason. To illustrate this,here is another Théodule experience. We arrived at the edge ofthe ice, and I required to be tied.'. My guide (a Zermatt man ofrepute) said that no one used a rope going across that pass. Ideclined to argue the matter, and we put on the rope; thoughvery much against the wish of mf man, who protested that heshould have to submit to perpetual ridicule if we met any of hisacquaintances. We had not gone very far before we saw a traincoming in the contrary direction. " Ah ! " cried my man, " thereis R— (mentioning a guide who used to be kept at the EiffelHotel for the ascent of Monte Eosa) ; it will be as I said, I shallnevor hear the end of this." The guide we met was followed by astring of tom-fools, none of whom were.tied together, and had hisface covered by a mask to prevent it becoming blistered. Afte/*wo had passed, I said, " Now, should R— make any observationsto you, ask him why he takes such extraordinary care to preservethe skin of his face, which will grow again in a week, when heneglects such an obvious precaution in regard to his life, which hocan only lose once." This was quite a new idea to my guide, andhe said nothing more against the use of the rope so long as wewere, together.I believe that the unwillingness, to use a rope upon snowcoveredglacier which born mountaineers not unfrequently exhibit,arises—First, on the part of expert men, from the consciousnessthat they themselves incnr little risk; secondly, on tho part ofinferior men, from fear of ridicule, and from aping the ways oftheir superiors ; and, thirdly, from pure ignorance or laziness.Whatever may bo the reason, I raise up my voice against the neglectof a precaution so simple and so effectual. In my opinion, thevery first thing a glacier traveller requires is plenty of good rope.A committee of the English Alpine Club was appointed in1864 to test, and to report upon, the most suitable ropes for

CHAP. xvm. ROPE FOR MOUNTAINEERING. 263mountaineering purposes, and those which were approved areprobably as good as can be found. One is made of Manilla andanother of Italian hemp. The former is the heavier, and weighsa little more than an ounce per foot (103 ozs. to 100 feet). Thelatter weighs 79 ozs. per 100 feet ; but I prefer the Manilla rope,because it is more handy to handle. Both of these ropes willsustain 168 lbs. falling 10 feet, or 196 lbs. falling 8 feet, and theybreak with a dead weight of two tons.* In 1865 we carried two100 feet lengths of the Manilla rope, and the inconvenience arisingfrom its weight was more than made up for by the security whichit afforded. Upon several occasions it was worth more than anextra guide.Now, touching the use of the rope. There is a right way, andthere are wrong ways of using it. I often meet, upon glacierpasses,elegantly got-up persons, who are clearly out of theirelement, with a guide stalking along in front, who pays noattention to the inno- ..dently have no idea * ^^W*r^>"v"^R£^"~""why they are tied up,ÀÉ^*'for they walk side by•'-'side, or close together, with the rope trailing on the snow. If onetumbles into a crevasse, the rest stare, and say, " La ! what is thematter with Smith ? " unless, as is more likely, they all tumble intogether. This is the wrong way to use a rope. It is abuse ofthe rope.It is of the first importance to keep the rope taut from man toman. If this is not done, there is no real security, and your risksmay be considerably magnified. There is little or no difficulty inextricating one man who breaks through a bridged crevasse if the* Manufactured and Bold by Messrs. Buckingham, Broad Street, Btoomsbury.

264 THE ASCENT OF TEE MATTERHORN. CHAP. xvm.rope is taut; but the case may be very awkward if two breakthrough at the same moment, close together, and there are onlytwo others to aid, or perhaps only one other. Further, the ropeought not upon any account to graze over snow, ice, or rocks,otherwise the strands suffer, and the lives of the whole party maybe endangered. Apart from this, it is extremely annoying to havea rope knocking about one's heels. If circumstances render itimpossible for the rope to be kept taut by itself, the men behindshould gather it up round their hands,* and not allow it toincommode those in advance. A man must either be incompetent,THE RIGHT WAY TO USE THE ROrE.careless, or selfish, if he permits the rope to dangle about the heelsof the person in front of him.The distance from man to man must neither be too great nortoo small. About 12 feet between each is sufficient. If there areonly two or three persons, it is prudent to allow a little more —say 15 feet. More than this is unnecessary, and less than 9 or 10feet is not much good.It is essential to examine your rope from time to time to seethat it is in good condition. If you are wise you will do thisyourself every day. Latterly, I have examined every inch of myrope overnight, and upon more than one occasion have found thestrands of the Manilla rope nearly half severed through accidentalgrazes.* For example, when the leader suspects crevasses, and sounds for them, in themanner shown in the engraving, he usually loses half a step or more. The secondman should take a turn of the rope around his hand to draw it back in case tholeader goes through.

CHAP. xvm. ON TEE USE OF TEE ROPE. 265' Thus far the rope has been supposed to be employed upon level,snow-covered glacier, to prevent any risk from concealed crevasses.On rocks and on slopes it is used for a different purpose (namely,to guard against slips), and in these cases it is equally importantto keep it taut, and to preserve a reasonable distance one from theother. It is much more troublesome to keep the rope taut uponslopes than upon the level ; and upon difficult rocks it is all butimpossible, except by adopting the plan of moving only one at atime (see p. 115).There is no good reason for employing a rope upon easy rocks,and I believe that its needless use is likely to promote carelessness.On difficult rocks and on snow-slopes (frequently improperly calledice-slopes) it is a great advantage to be tied together, provided therope is handled properly ; but upon actual ice-slopes, such as thaton the Col Dolent (p. 240), or upon slopes in which ice is mingledwith small and loose rocks, such as the upper part of the Pointedes Ecrins, it is almost useless, because a slip made by oneperson might upset the entire party.* I am not prepared to say,however, that men should not be tied together upon similar slopes.Being attached to others usually gives confidence, and confidencedecidedly assists stability. It is more questionable whether menshould be in such places at all. If a man can keep on his feet uponan escalier cut in an ice-slope, I see no reason why he should be* When several persons are descending such places, it is evident that the lastman cannot derivo any assistance from tho rope, and so might as well bo untied.Partly upon this account, it is usual to place one of the strongest and steadiest menlost. Now, although this cannot bo termed a senseless precaution, it is obvious thatit is a perfectly useless one, if it is true that a single slip would upset the entire party.The best plan I know is that which wo adopted on tho descent of the Col Dolent,namely, to let one man go in advance until he reaches some secure point This onothen detaches himself, tho ropo is drawn up, and another man is sent down to joinhim, and so on until the last. Tho last man still occupies the most difficult post,and should bo tho steadiest man ; but he is not exposed to any risk from bis comradesslipping, and they, of course, draw in tho ropo as ho descends, so that his positionis less hazardous than if ho were to corno down quite by himself.

266 TBE ASCENT ÖF TEE MATTEREORN. CHAP. xvm.debarred from making use of that particular form of staircase. Ifho cannot, let him keep clear of such places.*' There would be no advantage in discoursing upon the use of therope at greater length. A single day upon a mountain's side willgive a clearer idea of the value of a good rope, and of the numerouspurposes for which it may be employed, than any one will obtainfrom reading all that has been written upon the subject ; but noone will become really expert in its management without muchexperience.From the Col d'Olen we proceeded down the Combe of thesame name to the chalets of Prerayen, and passed the night of the6th under the roof of our old acquaintance, the wealthy herdsman.On the 7th we crossed the Va Cornère pass, en route for Breil.My thoughts were fixed on the Matterhorn, and my guides knewthat I wished them to accompany me. They had an aversion tothe mountain, and repeatedly expressed their belief that it wasuseless to try to ascend it. "Anything but Matterhorn, dear sir I "said Aimer; "anything but Matterhorn." He did not speak ofdifficulty or of danger, nor was he shirking work. He offered togo anywhere; bnt he entreated that the Matterhorn should beabandoned. Both men spoke fairly enough. They did not thinkthat an ascent could be made; and for their own credit, as well asfor my sake, they did not wish to undertake a business which, intheir opinion, would only lead to loss of time and money.* If you aro out upon an excursion, and find tho work becoming so arduousthat you have great difficulty in maintaining your balance, you should at onceretire, and not imperil tho lives of others. I am well awaro thot tho withdrawal ofono person for such reasons would usually necessitato tho retreat of a second, andthat expeditions would bo often cut short if this were to happen. "With tho fear ofthis before their eyes, I believe that many amateurs continue to go on, albeit wellconvinced that they ought not. They do not wish to stop the sport of their comrades;but they frequently suffer mental tortures in consequence, which mostemphatically do not assist their stability, and are likely to lead to something evenmore disagreeable than tho abandonment of the excursion. Tho moral is, take anadequato number of guides.

CHAP. xvm. DEFECTION OF TEE CARRELS. 267I sent them by the short cut to Breil, and walked down toVal Tournanche to look for Jean-Antoine Carrel. He was notthere. The villagers said that he, and three others, had started onthe 6th to try the Matterhorn by the old way, on their ownaccount. They will have no luck, I thought, for the clouds werolow down on the mountains ; and I walked up to Breil, fullyexpecting to meet them. Nor was I disappointed. About halfwayup I saw a group of men clustered around a chalet upon theother side of the torrent, and, crossing over, found that the partyhad returned. Jean-Antoine and Cœsar were there, C. E. Gorret,and J. J. Maquignaz. They had had no success. The weather,they said, had been horrible, and they had scarcely reached theglacier du Lion.I explained the situation to Carrel, and proposed that we,with Cœsar and another man, should cross the Théodule by moonlighton the 9th, and that upon the 10th we should pitch the tentas high as possible upon the cast face. He was unwilling toabandon the old route, and urged me to try it again. I promisedto do so provided the new route failed. This satisfied him, and heagreed to my proposal. I then went up to Breil, and dischargedAimer and Biener—with much regret, for no two men ever servedme more faithfully or more willingly.* On the next day theycrossed to Zermatt.The 8th was occupied with preparations. The weather wasstormy; and black, rainy vapours obscured the mountains. Towardsevening a young man came from Val Tournanche, and reportedthat an Englishman was lying there, extremely ill. Now was thetime for the performance of my vow;f and on the morning ofSunday the 9th I went down the valley to look after the sick man.On my way I passed a foreign gentleman, with a mule and severalporters laden with baggage. Amongst these men were Jean-* During the preceding eighteen days (I exclude Sundays and other non-workiugdays) we ascended more than 100,000 feet, and descended 98,000 feci.t Sec p. 73.

268 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEREOBN. CHAP. xvm.Antoine and Cœsar, carrying some barometers. "Hullo ! " I said,"what are you doing?" They explained that the foreigner hadarrived just as they were setting out, and that they were assistinghis porters. " Very well ; go on to Breil, and await me there ; westart at midnight as agreed." Jean-Antoine then said that heshould not be able to serve me after Tuesday the 11th, as he wasengaged to travel " with a family of distinction " in the valley ofAosta. ""And Cœsar?" " And Cœsar also." " Why did you notsay this before ?" " Because," said he, " it was not settled. Theengagement is of long standing, but the day was not fixed. "WhenI got back to Val Tournanche on Friday night, after leaving you, Ifound a letter naming the day." I could not object to the answer ;but the prospect of being left guideless was provoking. Theywent up, and I down, the valley.The sick man declared that he was better, though the exertionof saying as much tumbled him over on to the floor in a fainting fit.He was badly in want of medicine, and I tramped down to Chatillonto get it. It was late before I returned to Val Tournanche,for the weather was tempestuous, and rain fell in torrents. A figurepassed me under the church porch. " Qui vive ? " " Jean-Antoine."" I thought you were at Breil." " No, sir : when the storms cameòn I knew we should not start to-night, and so came down to sleephere." " Ha, Carrel !" I said ; " this is a great bore. If to-morrowis not fine we shall not be able to do anything together. I havesent away my guides, relying on you ; and now you are going toleave me to travel with a party of ladies. That work is not fit foryou (he Bmiled, I supposed at the implied compliment) ; can't yousend some one else instead?" "No, monsieur. I am sorry, butmy word is pledged. I should like to accompany you, but Ican't break my engagement." By this time we had arrived at theinn door. " Well, it is no fault of yours. Come presently withCœsar, and have some wine." They came, and wo sat up tillmidnight, recounting our old adventures, in tho inn of ValTournanche.

CHAP. xvm. TEE ITALIANS STEAL A MARCE. 269The weather continued bad upon the 10th, and I returned toBreil. The two Carrels were again hovering about the above mentionedchalet, and I bade them adieu. In the evening the sick mancrawled up, a good deal better ; but his was the only arrival. TheMonday crowd* did not cross the Théodule, on account of the continuedstorms. The inn was lonely. I went to bed early, and wasawoke the next morning by the invalid inquiring if I had " heardthe news." " No ; what news ? " " Why," said he, " a large partyof guides went off this morning to try the Matterhorn, taking withthem a mule laden with provisions."I went to the door, and with a telescope saw the party uponthe lower slopes of the mountain. Favre, the landlord, stood by." What is all this about ?" I inquired, " who is the leader of thisparty?" "Carrel." "What! Jean-Antoine?." "Yes; Jean-Antoine." " Is Cœsar there too ? " " Yes, he is there." Then I sawin a moment that I had been bamboozled and humbugged ; andlearned, bit by bit, that the affair had been arranged long beforehand.The start on the 6th had been for a preliminary reconnaissance; the mule, that I passed, was conveying stores for the attack ;the ' family of distinction ' was Signor F. Giordano, who had justdespatched the party to facilitate the way to the summit, and who,when the facilitation was completed, was to be taken to the topalong with Signor Sella ! tI was greatly mortified. My plans were upset ; the Italianshad clearly stolen a march upon me, and I saw that the astuteFavre chuckled over my discomfiture, because the route by thoeastern face, if successful, would not benefit his inn. What was tobe done? I retired to my room, and soothed by tobacco, re-studiedmy plans, to see if it was not possible to outmanoeuvre the Italians." They have taken a mule's load of provisions." That is one point* Tourists usually congregato at Zermatt upon Sundays, and large gangs anddroves cross tho Théodule pass on Mondays.t The Italian Minister. Signor Oionlano had undertaken the business arrangementsfor Signor Sella.

270 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEORN. CHAP, xvm,in my favour, for they will take two or three days to get throughthe food, and, until that is done, no work will be accomplished."" How is the weather ?" I went to the window. The mountain wassmothered up in mist. " Another point in my favour." " They areto facilitate the way. Well, if they do that to any purpose, it willbe a long job." Altogether, I reckoned that they could not possiblyascend the mountain and come back to Breil in less thanseven days. I got cooler, for it was evident that the wily onesmight be outwitted after all. There was time enough to go toZermatt, to try the eastern face, and, should it prove impracticable,to come back to Breil before the men returned ; and then, it seemedto me, as the mountain was not padlocked, one might start at thesame time as the Messieurs, and yet get to the top before them.The first thing to do was to go to Zermatt. Easier said thandone. The seven guides upon the mountain included the ablestmen in the valley, and none of the ordinary muleteer-guides wereat Breil. Two men, at least, were wanted for my baggage, but nota soul could be found. I ran about, and sent about in all directions,but not a single porter could be obtained. One was withCarrel; another was ill;, another was at Chatillon, and so forth.Even Meynet, the hunchback, could not be induced to come ; hewas in the thick of some important cheese-making operations. Iwas in the position of a general without an army ; it was all verywell to make plans, but there was no one to execute them. Thisdid not much trouble me, for it was evident that so long as theweather stopped traffic over the Théodule pass, it would hinderthe men equally upon the Matterhorn ; and I knew that directlyit improved company would certainly arrive.About midday on Tuesday the 11th a large party hove in sightfrom Zermatt, preceded by a nimble young Englishman, and one ofold Peter Taugwalder's sons.* I went at once to this gentlemanto learn if ho could dispense with Taugwaldor. He said that he- •. * Peter Taugwalder, tho father, is called old Peter, to distinguish him from hiseldest son, young Peter. In 18C5 the father's age was about 45.

CHAP. xvm. MEETING WITE CROZ AND BUDSON. 271could not, as they were going to recross to Zermatt on the morrow,but that the young man should assist in transporting my baggage,as he had nothing to carry. We naturally got into conversation.I told my story, and learned that the young Englishman was LordFrancis Douglas,* whose recent exploit—the ascent of the Gabelhorn—hadexcited my wonder and admiration. He brought goodnews. Old Peter had lately been beyond the Hörnli, and had reportedthat he thought an ascent of the Matterhorn was possibleupon that side. Aimer had left Zermatt, and could not be recovered,so I determined to seek for old Peter. Lord Francis Douglasexpressed a warm desire to ascend the mountain, and before longit was determined that he should take part in the expedition.Favre could no longer hinder our departure, and lent us one ofhis men. We crossed the Coi Théodule on Wednesday morningthe 12th of July, rounded the foot of the Ober Théodulgletscher,crossed the Furggengletscher, and deposited tent, blankets, ropes,and other matters in the little chapel at the Schwarzsee.t Allfour were heavily laden, for we brought across the whole of mystores from Breil. Of rope alone there was about 600 feet. Therewere three kinds. First, 200 feet of the Manilla rope ; second,150 feet of a stouter, and probably stronger rope than the first ;and third, more than 200 feet of a lighter and weaker rope thanthe first, of a kind that I used formerly (stout sash-line).We descended tò Zermatt, sought and engaged old Peter, andgave him permission to choose another guide. When we returnedto the Monte Bosa Hotel, whom should we see sitting upon thowall in front but my old guide chef, Michel Croz. I supposed thathe had come with Mr. B , but I learned that that gentlemanhad arrived in ill health, at Chamounix, and had returned toEngland. Croz, thus left free, had been immediately engaged bythe Eev. Charles Hudson, and they had come to Zermatt with the* Brother of tho present Marquis of Quccnsbcrry.f For route, and tho others mentioned in the subsequent chapters, sec map oftho Matterhorn and its glaciers.

272; TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEORN. CHAP. xvm.same object as ourselves—namely, to attempt the ascent of theMatterhorn!Lord Francis Douglas and I dined at the Monte Eosa, and hadjust finished when Mr. Hudson and a friend entered the salle àmanger. They had returned from inspecting the mountain, andsome idlers in the room demanded their intentions. We heard aconfinilation of Croz's statement, and learned that Mr. Hudson intendedto set out on the morrow at the same hour as ourselves.We left the room to consult, and agreed it was undesirable thattwo independent parties should be on the mountain at the sametime with the same object. Mr. Hudson was therefore invited tojoin us, and he accepted our proposal. Before admitting his friend—Mr. Hadow—I took the precaution to inquire what he had donein the Alps, and, as well as I remember, Mr. Hudson's reply was," Mr. Hadow has done Mont Blanc in less time than most men."He then mentioned several other excursions that were unknown tome, and added, in answer to a further question, " I consider he is asufficiently good man to go with us." Mr. Hadow was admittedwithout any further question, and we then went into the matterof guides. Hudson thought that Croz and old Peter would besufficient. The question was referred to the men themselves, andthey made no objection.So Croz and I became comrades once more ; and as I threwmyself on my bed and tried to go to sleep, I wondered at thestrange series of chances which had first separated us and thenbrought us together again. I thought of the mistake throughwhich he had accepted the engagement to Mr. B ; of his unwillingnessto "adopt my route; of his recommendation to transferour energies to the chain of Mont Blanc ; of the retirement ofAimer and Biener ; of the desertion of Carrel ; of the arrival ofLord Francis Douglas ; and, lastly, of our meeting at Zermatt ; andas I pondered over these things I could not help asking, '""Whatnext ? " If any one of tho links of this fatal chain of circumstanceshad been omitted, what a different story I should have to tell !

CHAPTEE XIX.THE FIRST ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN'."Had wo succeeded well,Wo had been reckoned 'mongst tho wiso : our mindsAre so disposed to judge from the event."EURIPIDES." It is a thoroughly unfair, but an ordinary custom, to praise or blamo designs(which in themselves may be good or bad) just as they turn out well or ilL Ilencothe same actions are at one time attributed to earnestness and at another to vanity."PLIST Mur.WE started from Zermatt on the 13th of July, at half-past 5, ona brilliant and perfectly cloudless morning. We were eight innumber—Croz, old Peter and his two sons,* Lord F. Douglas,Hadow, Hudson,t and I. To ensure steady motion, one tourist* The two young Taugwalders were taken as porters, by desire of their father, andcarried provisions amply sufficient for three days, in caso the ascent should provemore troublesome than we anticipated.t I remember speaking about pedestrianism to a well-known mountaineer someyears ago, and venturing to remark that a man who averaged thirty miles a-day mightbo considered a good walker. " A fair walker," he said, u a fair walker." " "Whatthen would you consider good walking?" "Well," he replied, "I will tell you.Some time back a friend and I agreed to go to Switzerland, but a short time after.wards he wrote to say ho ought to let me know that a young and- delicato lad wasgoing with him who would not bo equal to great things, in fact, he would not bo abloto do more thon fiftymiles a-day I " " What becamo of tho young and delicato lad ? "" He lives." . "And who was your extraordinary friend?" "Charles Hudson." Ihave every reason to believe that tho gentlemen referred to were equal to walkingmore than fifty miles a-day, but they were exceptional, not good pedestrians.Charles Hudson, Vicar of Skillington in Lincolnshire, was considered by thomountaineering fraternity to bo the best amateur of his time. He was tho organiserand leader of tho party ° f Englishmen who ascended Mont Blanc by tho Aig. duGoûter, and descended by tho Gttmds Mulcts route, without guides, in 1855. HisT

274 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEREORN. CHAr. xrx.and one native walked together. The youngest Taugwalder fellto my share, and the lad marched well, proud to be on the expedition,and happy to show his powers. The wine-bags also fell tomy lot to carry, and throughout the day, after each drink, Ireplenished them secretly with water, so that at the next haltthey wero found fuller than before ! This was considered a goodomen, And little short of miraculous.On the first day we did not intend to ascend to any greatheight, and we mounted, accordingly, very leisurely; picked upthe things which were left in the chapel at the Schwarzsee at8.20, and proceeded thence along the ridge connecting the Hôrnliwith the Matterhorn.* At half-past 11 we arrived at the base ofthe actual peak; then quitted the ridge, and clambered roundlong practice made him surefooted, and in that respect ho was not greatly inferior toa born mountaineer. I remember him as a well-made man of middle height and age,neither stout nor thin, with face pleasant—though grave, and with quiet unassumingmanners. Although an athletic man, he would have been overlooked in a crowd;and although ho had done the greatest mountaineering feats which havo been done,he was the lost man to speak of his own doings. His friend Mr. Hadow was a youngman of nineteen, who had tho looks and manners of a greater age. He was a rapidwalker, but 18G5 was his first season in the Alps. Lord Francis Douglas was aboutthe samo ago as Mr. Hadow. He had had the advantage of several seasons in theAlps. He was nimblo as a deer, and was becoming an expert mountaineer. Justbefore our meeting ho had ascended tho Ober Gabelhom (with old Peter Taugwalderand Jos. Viennin), and this gave me a high opinion of his powers ; for I had examinedthat mountain all round, a few weeks before, and had declined it» ascent on accountof its apparent difficulty.My personal acquaintance with Mr; Hudson was very slight—still I should havebeen content to have placed myself under his orders if he had chosen to claim theposition to which ho was entitled. Thoso who knew him will not be surprised toloam that, so far from doing this, he lost no opportunity of consulting the wishesnnd opinions of thoso around him. We deliberateti together whenever there wasoccasion, and our authority was recognised by tho others. Whatever responsibilitythere was devolved upon us. I recollect with satisfaction that there was no diffcrencoof opinion between us as to what should be done, and that the most perfect harmonyexisted between all of us so long as wo were together.* Arrived at tho chapel 7.30 AJI. ; left.it, 8.20; halted to examine route 9.30;started again 10.25, and arrival at 11.20 at the cairn made by Mr. Kennedy in 1862(see p. 50), marked 10,820 feet upon the map. Stopped 10 min. here. From the

our. xix. WE ENCAMP ON TEE EASTERN FACE. 275some ledges, on to the eastern face. We were now fairly upon thomountain, and were astonished to find that places which fromthe Eiffel, or even from the Furggengletscher, looked entirelyimpracticable, were so easy that we could run about.Before twelve o'clock we had found a good position for thotent, at a height of 11,000 feet.* Croz and young Peter went onto see what was above, in order to save time on the followingmorning. They cut across the heads of the snow-slopes whichdescended towards the Furggengletscher, and disappeared rounda corner ; and shortly afterwards we saw them high up on thoface, moving quickly. We others made a solid platform for thetent in a well-protected Bpot, and then watched eagerly for thereturn of the men. The stones which they upset told that theywere very high, and we supposed that the way must be easy. Atlength, just before 3 P.M., we saw them coming down, evidentlymuch excited. " What are they saying, Peter ? " " Gentlemen,they say it is no good." But when they came near we hearda different story. " Nothing but what was good ; not a difficulty,not a single difficulty! We could have gone to the summitand returned to-day easily ! "We passed the remaining hours of daylight—some basking inthe sunshine, some sketching or collecting ; and when the sun wentdown, giving, as it departed, a glorious promise for tho morrow, wereturned to the tent to arrange for the night. Hudson made tea,I coffee, and .we then retired each ono to his blanket-bag ; the Tangwalders,Lord Francis Douglas, and myself, occupying the tent, theHGrnli to this point wo kept, when possible, to the crest of the ridge. The.greatcrport of tho way was excessively cosy, though there were a few places where the axehad to be used. .* Thus far the guides did not once go to the front. Hudson or I led, and whenany cutting was required we did it ourselves. This was done to spare the guides, andto show them that wo were thoroughly in earnest. The spot at which wo campedwas four hours* walking from Zermatt, and is marked upon the map—CAMP (18C5).It was just upon a level witli the Furggcngrat, and its position is indicated U]ion thoengraving facing p. 227 by a little circular white S]«t, in n line with the word CAMP.T 2

276 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTERBORN. CHAP. XIX.others remaining, by preference, outside. Long after dusk thecliffs above echoed with our laughter and with the songs of theguides, for wo were happy that night in camp, and feared no evil.We assembled together outside the tent before dawn on themorning of the 14th, and started directly it was light enough tomove. Young Peter came on with us as a guide, and his brotherreturned to Zermatt." We followed tho route which had beentaken on the previous day, and in a few minutes turned the ribwhich had intercepted the view of the eastern face from our tentplatform. The wholo of this great slope was now revealed, risingfor 3000 feet like a huge natural staircase.f Some parts weremoro, and others woro less, easy ; but we were not once brought toa halt by any serious impediment, for when an obstruction wasmet in front it could always be turned to the right or to the left.For the greater part of the way there was, indeed, no occasion forthe rope, and sometimes Hudson led, sometimes myself. At 6.20we had attained a height of 12,800 feet, and halted for half-anhour; we then continued the ascent without a break until 9.55,when we stopped for 50 minutes, at a height of 14,000 feet.Twico wo struck the N.E. ridge, and followed it for some littledistanco,"t—to no advantage, for it was usually more rotten andsteep, and always more difficult than the face.§ Still, wo keptnear to it, lest stones perchance might fall.jj* It was originally intended to leavo both of tho young men'behind. We found itdifficult to divido tho food, and so the new arrangement was made.t Seo pp. 227-231.X For track, seo tho lower of tho outlines facing p. 230.§ Seo remarks on aretes and faces on p. 206. There is very little to choosobetween iu tho arêtes leading from tho summit towards tho Hôrnli (X.K. ridge) andtowards tho Col du Lion (S.W. ridge). Both are jagged, serrated ridges, which anyexperienced climber would willingly avoid if ho could find another route. On thonorthern (Zermatt) side tho eastern foco affords another route, or any number ofroutes, since thcro is hardly a part of it which cannot bo traversal 1 On tho southern(Breil) side tho ridge alone, generally speaking, can bo followed ; and when it becomesimpracticable, and tho climber is forced to bear down to tho right or to tho left, thowork is of the most difficult character.B Very few stones fell during tho two days I was on the mountain, and none cauio

CHAP. xix. CEANGE IN TEE ORDER OF ASCENT. 277We'liad now arrived at the foot of that part which, from thoEiffelberg or from Zermatt, seems perpendicular or overhanging,and could no longer continue upon the eastern side. For a littledistance we" ascended by snow upon the arête*—that is, tho ridge—descending towards Zermatt, and then, by common consent,turned over to the right, or to the northern side. Before doingso, wo made a change in the order of ascent. Croz went first, Ifollowed, Hudson came third; Hadow and old Peter were last." Now," said Croz, as he led off, " now for something altogetherdifferent." The work became difficult, and required caution. Insome places there was little to hold, and it was desirable thatthose should be in front who were least likely to slip. Thegeneral slope of the mountain at this part was less than 40°, andsnow had accumulated in, and had filled up, the interstices of therock-face, leaving only occasional fragments projecting here andthere. These were at times covered with a thin film of ice,produced from the melting and refreezing of the snow. It wasthe counterpart, on a small scale, of the upper 700 feet of thePointe des Ecrins,—only there was this material difference ; theface of the Ecrins was about, or exceeded, an angle of 50°, and theMatterhorn face was less than 40\f It was a place over whichnear us. Others who havo followed the samo route have not been so fortunate ; theymay not, perhaps, have taken the samo precautions. It is o noteworthy fact, that thelateral moraine of the left bank of the Furggengletscher is scarcely larger than that ofthe right bank, although tho former receives all the debris that falls from tho 4000feet of clifls which form tho eastern sido of tho Matterhorn, whilst the latter is fed byperfectly insignificant slopes. Neither of these moraines is large. This is strong evidencethat stones do not fall to any groat extent from tho eastern face. The inward dipof the beds retains the detritus in place. Hence tho eastern face appears, when onois upon it, to bo undergoing more rapid disintegration than the other sides : in reality,the. mantle of ruin spares tho mountain from farther waste. Upon the southern side,rocks fai I as they aro rent off; " each day's work is cleared away " eTcry day ; and hencetho faces and ridges are left naked, and aro exposed to fresh attacks.* Tho snow seen in the engraving facing p. 227, half-an-inch below tho summit,and a little to its right.t Tlii» part was less steeply inclined than tho whole of tho eastern face.

278 TEE ASCENT OF TBE MATTERBORN. CHAP. XIX.any fair mountaineer might pass in safety, and Mr. Hudsonascended this part, and, as far as I know, the entire mountain,without having the slightest assistance rendered to him upon anyoccasion. Sometimes, after I had taken a hand from Croz, orreceived a pull, I turned to offer the same to Hudson; but heinvariably declined, saying it was not necessary. Mr. Hadow,however, was not accustomed to this kind of work, and requiredcontinual assistance. It is only fair to say that the difficultywhich he found at this part arose simply and entirely from wantof experience.This solitary difficult part was of no great extent.* We boreaway over it at first, nearly horizontally, for a distance of about400 feet ; then ascended directly towards the summit for aboutGO feet; and then doubled back to the ridge which descendstowards Zermatt. A long stride round a rather awkward cornerbrought us to snow once more. The last doubt vanished ! TheMatterhorn was ours ! Nothing but 200 feet of easy snow remainedto be surmounted !Yon must now carry your thoughts back to the seven Italianswho started from Breil on tho 11th of July. Four days hadpassed sinco their departure, and we were tormented with anxietylest they should arrive on the top before us. All the way upwe had talked of them, and many false alarms of "men on thesummit " had been raised. The higher we rose, the more intensebecame the excitement. What if we should be beaten at the lastmoment ? The slope cased off, at length we could be detached,and Croz and I, dashing away, ran a neck-and-neck race, whichended in a dead heat. At 1.40 P.M. the world was at our feet, andthe Matterhorn was conquered. Hurrah ! Not a footstep couldbe seen.It was not yet certain that we had not been beaten. Thesummit of the Matterhorn was formed of a rudely level ridge,* I have no memomndum of tho time that it occupied. "It must have takenabout an hour and a half.

CHAP. XIX. ARRIVAL ON THE SUMMIT. L>7!>about 350 feet long,* and the Italians might have been at itsfarther extremity. I hastened to the southern end, scanning thesnow right and left eagerly. Hurrah ! again ; it was untrodden."Where were the men?" I peered over the cliff, half doubting,half expectant. I saw them immediately—mere dots on the ridge,"CROZt CKOZ '. '. COME HEKEl"at an immense distance below.Up went my arms and my hat.* The highest points aro towards the two ends. In 18C5 the northern end wasslightly higher than the southern one. In bygone years Carrel and I often suggestedto each other that wo might ono day arrivo upon the top, and find ourselves cut offfrom the very highest point by a notch in the siunmit-ridge which is seen from theTheodulo and from Breil (marked D on the outline on p. 85). This notch is veryconspicuous from below, but when we were upon the summit it was hardly noticed,and it could be passed without the least difficulty.

280 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEORN. CHAP. xrx." Croz ! Croz ! ! come here ! " " Where are they, Monsieur ? ""There, don't you see them, down there?" "Ah! the coquins,they are low down." ' " Groz, we must make those fellows hear us."We yelled until we were hoarse. The Italians seemed to regard us—we could not be certain. " Croz, we must make them hear us ;they shall hear us ! " I seized a block of rock and hurled it down,^. - ;•'and called upon my companion, in the name of friendship, to dothe same. Wo drove our sticks in, and prized away the crags, andsoon a torrent of stones poured down the cliffs. There was nomistake about it this time. The Italians turned and fled.*Still, I would that the leader of that party could have stoodwith us at that moment, for our victorious shouts conveyed to himthe disappointment of the ambition of a lifetime. He was theman, of all those who attempted the ascent of the Matterhorn,who most deserved to be the first upon its summit. He was thefirst to doubt its inaccessibility, and he was the only man whopersisted in believing that its ascent would be accomplished. Itwas the aim of his life to make the ascent from the side of Italy,for the honour of his native valley. For a time he had the gamein his hands: he played it as he thought best; but he made afalse move, and he lost it. Times have changed with Carrel. Hissupremacy is questioned in the Yal Tournanche ; new men havearisen ; and he is no longer recognised as the chasseur above allothers : though so long as he remains the man that he is to-day,it will not be easy to find his superior.The others had arrived, so we went back to the northern endof the ridge. Croz now took the tent-pole,t and planted it in thehighest snow. " Yes," we said, " there is the flag-staff, but whereis the flag ? " " Hero it is," he answered, pulling off his blouse* I have learnt since from J.-A. Carrel that they heard our first cries. Theywere then upon tho south-west ridge, close to tho * Cravate,' and twelve hundred andfifty feet below us ; or, as the crow flics, at a distance of about one-third of a milet At our departure tho men were confident that the ascent would be mode, andtook ono of tho poles out of tho tent 1 protested that it was tempting Providence ;they took tho pole, nevertheless.

CHAP. xix. DISCOMFITURE OF THE ITALIANS. 281and fixing it to the stick. It made a poor flag, and there was nowind to float it out, yet it was seen all around. They saw it atZermatt—at the Eiffel—in the Val Tournanche. At Breil, thewatchers cried, " Victory is ours ! " They raised ' bravos ' forCarrel, and ' vivas ' for Italy, and hastened to put themselves enTHE SUMMIT OF THE MATTERHORN IN 1SÓ5 (NORTHERN END).fête. On the morrow they were undeceived. " All was changed ;the explorers returned sad—cast down—disheartened—confounded—gloomy." " It is true," said the men. " We saw them ourselves—they hurled stones at us ! The old traditions are true,—thereare spirits on the top of the Matterhorn ! "** Signor Giordano was naturally disappointed at the result, and wished the mento start again. They all refused to do so, with the exception of Jean-Antoine. Uponthe Kith of July he set out again with three others, and upon tho 17th gained the

282 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEORN. CHAP. XIX.We returned to the southern end of the ridge to'build a cairn,and then paid homage to the view.* The day was one of tho.«superlatively calm and clear ones which usually precede badweather. The atmosphere was perfectly still, and free from allclouds or vapours. Mountains fifty—nay a hundred—miles off,looked sharp and near. All their details—ridge and crag, snowand glacier—stood out with faultless definition. Pleasant thoughtsof happy days in bygone years came up nnbidden, as we recognisedtho old, familiar forms. All were revealed—not one of the prinsummitby passing (at first) up the south-west ridge,and (afterwards) by turning overto the Z'Mutt, or north-western side. On tho 18th he returned to Breil.Whilst we were upon tho southern end of tho summit-ridge, we paid some attentionto tho portion of tho mountain which intervened between ourselves and thoItalian guides. It seemed as if there would not bo the least chance for them if theyshould attempt to storm tho final peak directly from the end of the 'shoulder.' Inthat direction cliffs fell sheer down from tho summit, and we were unable to secbeyond a certain distance. Thero remained the route about which Carrel and I hadoften talked, namely to ascend directly at first from tho end of the ' shoulder,' andafterwards to swerve to tho left—that is, to the Z'Mutt side—and to complete theascent from tho north-west. When wo were upon the summit we laughed at thisidea. Tho part of tho mountain that I have described upon p. 278, was not easy,although its inclination was moderate. If that slope were mode only ten degreessteeper, its difficulty would bo enormously increased. To double its inclination wouldbo to mako it impracticable. Tho slope at the southern end of tho summit-ridge,falling towards tho north-west, was much steeper than that over which we passed, andwe ridiculed the idea that any person Bhould attempt to ascend in that direction, whentho northern route was so easy. Nevertheless, the summit was reached by that routeby the undaunted Carrel. From knowing tho final slope over which he passed, andfrom tho account of Mr. F. C. Grovo—who is tho only traveller by whom it has beentraversed—I do not hesitate to term the ascent of Carrel and Bich in 18C5 tho mostdespcrato piece of mountain-scrambling upon record. In 1809 I asked Carrel ifho had ever dono anything moro difficult. His replywas, " Man cannot do anythingmuch moro difficult than that !" See Appendix D.* Tho summit-ridge was much shattered, although not so extensively as thosouth-west and north-east ridges. Tho highest rock, in 1865, was a block of micaschist,and tho fragment I broko off it not only possesses, in a remarkable degree,tho character of tho peak, but mimics, in an astonishing manner, the details of itsform. (Seo illustration on page 281.)

CHAP. xix. MARVELLOUS PANORAMA. 283cipal peaks,of the Alps was hidden.* I seo them clearly now—the great inner circles of giants, backed by the ranges, chains, andmassifs. First came the Dent Blanche, hoary and grand; theGabelhorn and pointed Kothhorn ; and then tho peerless Weisshorn: the towering Mischabelhôrner, flanked by the Allaleinhorn,Strahlhorn, and Bimpfischhorn ; then Monte Kosa—with its manySpitzes—the Lyskamm and the Breithorn. Behind was the BerneseOberland governed by theFinsteraarhorn,and then the Simplonand St. Gothard groups ; the Disgrazia and the Orteler. Towardsthe south we looked down to Chivasso on the plain of Piedmont,and far beyond. The Viso—one hundred miles away—seemedclose upon us ; the Maritime Alps—one hundred and thirty milesdistant—were free from haze. Then came my first love—the Pelvoux; the Ecrins and the Meije ; the clusters of the Graians ; andlastly, in the west, gorgeous in the full sunlight, rose the monarchof all—Mont Blanc. Ten thousand feet beneath us were the greenfields of Zermatt, dotted with chalets, from which blue smoke roselazily. " Eight thousand feet below, on the other side, were thopastures of Breil. There wero black and gloomy forests, brightand cheerful meadows; bounding waterfalls and tranquil lakes;fertile lands and savage wastes ; sunny plains and frigid plateaux.There were the most rugged forms, and the most graceful outlines—bold,perpendicular cliffs, and gentle, undulating slopes;rocky mountains and snowy mountains, sombre and solemn, orglittering and white, with walls—turrets—pinnacles—pyramids—domes—cones—and spires! There was every combination thatthe world can give, and every contrast that the heart could desire.We remained on the summit for one hour—" One crowded hour of glorious life."It passed away too quickly, and we began to prepare for thodescent.* It is most unusual to see tho southern half of tho panorama unclouded. Ahundred ascents may be made before this will be the case again.

THE ACTUAL SUMMIT OF THE MATTERHORN IN 1865.CHAPTEEXX.DESCENT OF THE MATTERHORN-.*HUDSON and I again consulted as to the best and safest arrangementof the party. We agreed that it would be best for Croz togo first,! and Hadow second ; Hudson, who was almost equal to aguide in sureness of foot, wished to be third ; Lord F. Douglas wasplaced next, and old Peter, the strongest of the remainder, afterhim. I suggested to Hudson that we should attach a rope to therocks on our arrival at the difficult bit, and hold it as we descended,as an additional protection. He approved the idea, but it was notdefinitely settled that it should be done. The party was being* The substance of Chapter XX. appeared in a letter in the Times, August 8,18G5. A few paragraphs have now been added, and a few corrections have been made.The former will help to make clear that which was obscure in the original arrnunt,and the latter are, mostly, unimportant.t If the members of the party had been more equally efficient, Croz would havebeen placed iati.

CHAP. xx. TEE MATTERBORN ACCIDENT. 283arranged in the above order whilst I was sketching tho summit,and they had finished, and were waiting for me to bo tied in line,when some one remembered that our names had not been left in abottle. They requested me to write them down, and moved offwhile it was being done.A few minutes afterwards I tied myself to young Peter, randown after the others, and caught them just as they were commencingthe descent of the difficult part.* Great care was beingtaken. Only one man was moving at a time ; when he was firmlyplanted the next advanced, and so on. They had not, however,attached the additional rope to rocks, and nothing was said aboutit. The suggestion was not made for my own sake, and I am notsure that it even occurred to me again. For some little distancewe two followed the others, detached from them, and should havecontinued so had not Lord F. Douglas asked me, about 3 PJT., totie on to old Peter, as he feared, he said, that Taugwalder wouldnot be able to hold his ground if a slip occurred.A few minutes later, a sharp-eyed lad ran into the Monte Uosahotel, to Seiler, saying that he had seen an avalanche fall fromtho summit of tho Matterhorn on to the Matterhorngletscher.The boy was reproved for telling idle stories ; ho was right,nevertheless, and this was what he saw.Michel Croz had laid aside his axe, and in order to give Mr.Hadow greater security, was absolutely taking hold of his legs, andputting his feet, one by one, into their proper positions.! As far asI know, no one was actually descending. I cannot speak withcertainty, because tho two leading men were partially hidden frommy sight by an intervening mass of rock, but it is my belief, from* Described upon pp. 277-8.t Not at all an unusual proceeding, even between bom mountaineers. I wishto convey the impression that Croz was using all pains, rather than to indicatoextreme inability on the part of Mr. Hadow. Tho insertion of tho wonl ' absolutely 'makes the passage, perhaps, rather ambiguous. I retain it now, in order to offer thoubovc explanation.

286 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEREORN. CHAP. XX.the movements of their shoulders, that Croz, having done as I havesaid, was in the act of turning round to go down a step or two himself; at this moment Mr. Hadow slipped, fell against him, andknocked him over. I heard one startled exclamation from Croz,then saw him and Mr. Hadow flying downwards; in anothermoment Hudson was dragged from his steps, and Lord F. Douglasimmediately after him.* All this was the work of a moment.Immediately we heard Croz's exclamation, old Peter and I plantedourselves as firmly as the rocks would permit :f the rope was tautbetween us, and the jerk came on us both as on one man. Weheld ; but the rope broke midway between Taugwalder and LordFrancis Douglas. For a few seconds we saw our unfortunate companionssliding downwards on their backs, and spreading out their* At the moment of the accident, Croz, Hadow, and Hudson, were all close together.Between Hudson and Lord F. Douglas the ropo was all but taut, and the samobetween all tho others, who were above. Croz was standing by tho sido of a rockwhich afforded good hold, and if ho had been aware, or had suspected, that anythingwas about to occur, ho might and would have gripped it, and would have preventedany mischief. Ho was taken totally by surprise. Mr. Hadow slipped off his feeton to his back, his feet struck Croz in the small of the back, and knocked him rightover, head first. Croz's axe was out of his reach, yet without it he managed to gethis head uppermost beforo he disappeared from our sight. If it had been in hishand I have no doubt that ho would have stopped himself and Mr. Hadow.Mr. Hadow, at tho moment of his slip, was not occupying a bad position. Hecould havo moved cither up or down, and could touch with his hand the rock ofwhich I havo spoken. Hudson was not so well placed, but he had liberty of motion.Tho ropo was not taut from him to Hadow, and the two men fell ten or twelve feetliefere the jerk came upon him. Lord F. Douglas was not favourably placed, andcould neither move up nor down. Old Peter was firmly planted, and stomi justlicncath a largo rock which ho hugged with lx>th arms. I enter into these details tomake it more apparent that tho position occupied by the party nt the moment of thoaccident was not by any means excessively trying. We were compelled to pass overtho exact spot whero the slip occurred, and we found—even with shaken nerve«—that it was not a difficult placo to pass. I have described the slope generally as difficult,and it is so undoubtedly to mast persons; but it must be distinctly understoodthat Mr. Hadow slipped at nn easy part.t Or, more correctly, we held on as tightly as possible.change our position.There was no time to

CHAP. xx. WE ARE LOST ! WE ARE LOST ! 287hands, endeavouring to save themselves. They passed from oursight uninjured, disappeared one by one, and fell from precipiceto precipice on to the Matterhorngletscher below, a distance ofnearly 4000 feet in height. From the moment the rope broke itwas impossible to help them.So perished our comrades ! For the space of half-an-hour weremained on the spot without moving a single step. The twomen, paralysed by terror, cried like infants, and trembled in sucha manner as to threaten us with the fate of the others. Old Peterrent the air with exclamations of " Chamounix ! Oh, what willChamounix say ? " He meant, Who would believe that Crozcould fall ? The young man did nothing but scream or sob, " Weare lost ! we are lost ! " Fixed betweenthe two, I could neithermove up nor down. I beggedyoung Peter to descend, but hedared not. Unless he did, we couldnot advance. Old Peter becamealive to the danger, and swelledthe cry, " We are lost ! we arelost ! " The father's fear wasnatural—he trembled for his son ;the young man's fear was cowardly—hethought of self alone.At last old Peter summoned upcourage, and changed his positionto a rock to which he could fixthe rope ; the young man then descended,and we all stood together.Immediately we did so, I asked for the rope which had given way,and found, to my surprise—indeed, to my horror—that it was theweakest of the three ropes. It was not brought, and should nothave been employed, for the purpose for which it was used. Itwas old rope, and, compared with the others, was feeble. It was

288 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEREORN. CHAP. XX.intended as a reserve, in case we had to leave much rope behind,attached to rocks. I saw at once that a serious question wasinvolved, and made him give me the end. It had broken in midair,and it did not appear to have sustained previous injury.For more than two hours afterwards I thought almost everymoment that the next would be my last ; for the Taugwalders,utterly .unnerved, were not only incapable of giving assistance, butwere in such a state that a slip might have been expected fromthem at any moment. After a time we were able to do that whichshould have been done at first, and fixed rope to firm rocks, inaddition to being tied together. These ropes were cut from timeto time, and were left behind.* Even with their assurance themen were sometimes afraid to proceed, and several times old Peterturned with ashy face and faltering limbs, and said, with terribleemphasis, "Icannot!"About 6 P.M. we arrived at the snow upon the ridge descendingtowards Zermatt, and all peril was over. We frequently looked,but in vain, for traces of our unfortunate companions ; we bentover the ridge and cried to them, but no sound returned. Convincedat last that they were neither within sight nor hearing, weceased from our useless efforts ; and, too cast down for speech,silently gathered up our things, and the little effects of those whowere lost, preparatory to continuing tho descent. When, lo ! amighty arch appeared, rising above the Lyskamm, high into theBky. Pale, colourless, and noiseless, but perfectly sharp and defined,except where it was lost in the clouds, this unearthly apparitionseemed like a vision from another world ; and, almost appalled,wo watched with amazement the gradual development of two vastcrosses, ono on cither side. If the Taugwalders had not been thofirst to perceive it, I should havo doubted my senses. Theythought it had some connection with tho accident, and I, after awhile, that it might bear some relation to ourselves. But our* These ends, I believe, nro still attached to tho rocks, and mark our lino ofasccut and descent. I saw one of them in 1873.

^vmmmvw^, ' " .,',iERHORN ON JU ! •"THE TAUGWALDERS THOUGHT THAT IT HAD SOME CONNECTION WITH THE ACCIDENT'

CHAP. xx. ASTONISHING FOG-BOW. 289movements had no effect upon it. The spectral forms remainedmotionless. It was a fearful and wonderful sight ; unique in myexperience, and impressive beyond description, coming at such amoment.*I was ready to leave, and waiting for the others. They hadrecovered their appetites and the use of their tongues. Theyspoke in patois, which I did not understand. At length the son* I paid very little attention to this remarkable phenomenon, and was glad whenit disappeared, as it distracted our attention. Under ordinary circumstances I shouldhave felt vexed afterwards at not having observed with greater precision anoccurrence so rare and so wonderful. I can odd very little about it to that which issaid above. The sun was directly at our backs ; that is to say, the fog-bow wasopposite to the sun. The timo was £30 P.M. The forms were at once tender andsharp ; neutral in tone ; were developed gradually, and disappeared suddenly. Themists were light (that is, not dense), and were dissipated in the course of theevening.It has been suggested that the crosses are incorrectly figured in the accompanyingview, and that they were probably formed by the#intersection of other circles or ellipses, as shown intho annexed diagram. I think this suggestion isvery likely correct; but I have preferred to followmy original memorandum.In Parry's Narrative of an Attempt to reach theNorth Pole, 4to, 1828, there is, at pp. 99-100, anaccount of the occurrence of a phenomenon analogousto the above-mentioned one. "At half-pastfive r.M. we witnessed a very beautiful naturalphenomenon. A broad white fog-bow first appearedopposite to tho sun, as was very commonly the case," etc I follow Parry in usingthe term fog-bow.It may be observed that, upon tho descent of the Italian guides (whose expeditionis noticeli upon p. 282, and again in tho Appendix), upon July 17, 1865, thophenomenon commonly termed tho Brocken was observed. The following is thoaccount given by the Abbe Arne Gorret in the Feuille d'Aoste, October 31, 18C5 :—" Nous étions sur l'épaule (tho * shoulder ') quand nous remarquâmes un phénomènequi nous fit plaisir ; le nuage était tres-dense du còte' de Valtornanche, c'était sereinen Suisse ; nous nous vîmes au milieu d'un cercle aux couleurs de l'arc-cn-ciel ; comirnge nous formait a tous une couronne au milieu de laquelle nous voyions notreombre." This occurred at almnt G.30 to 7 P.M., and the Italians in question were atabout the same height as ourselves—namely, 11,000 feetU

i'!JO THE ASCENT OF THE MATTEBEORN. CHAP. XX.said in French, " Monsieur." " Yes." " We are poor men ; we havelost our Herr ; we shall not get paid ; we can ill afford this." *" Stop ! " I said, interrupting him, " that is nonsense ; I shall payyou, of course, just as if your Herr were here." They talkedtogether in their patois for a short time, and then the son spokeagain. " We don't wish you to pay us. We wish you to write intho hotel-book at Zermatt, and to your journals, that we have notbeen paid." " What nonsense are you talking ? I don't understandyou. What do you mean ? " He proceeded—" Why, next yearthere will be many travellers at Zermatt, and we shall get morevoyageurs." fWho would answer such a proposition ? I made them no replyin words,| but they knew very well the indignation that I felt.They filled the cup of bitterness to overflowing, and I tore downthe cliff, madly and recklessly, in a way that caused them, morethan once, to inquire if I wished to kill them. Night fell ; andfor an hour the descent was continued inthe darkness. At half-past 9 a restingplacewas found, and upon a wretchedslab, barely large enough to hold the three,we passed six miserable hours. At daybreakthe descent was resumed, and fromthe Hörnli ridge we ran down to thechalets of Buhl, and on to Zermatt. iSeiler met mo at his door, and followedin silence to my room. " What is thematter ? " " The Taugwalders and I have° MONSIEUR ALEX. SEILER.returned." He did not need more, andburst into tears ; but lost no time in useless lamentations, and setto work to arouse the village. Ere long a score of men had started* They had been travelling with, and had been engaged by, Lord F. Douglas,and so considered h ini their employer, and responsible to them.t Transcribed from the original memorandum.% Nor did I speak to them afterwards, unless it was absolutely necessary, so longus we were together.

CHAP. xx. DISCOVERY OF TEE BODIES. 291to ascend the Hohlicht heights, above Kalbermatt and Z'Mutt,which commanded the plateau of the Matterhorngletscher. Theyreturned after six hours, and reported that they had seen the bodieslying motionless on the snow. This was on Saturday ; and theyproposed that we should leave on Sunday evening, so as to arriveupon the plateau at daybreak on Monday. Unwilling to lose theslightest chance, the Bev. J. M'Cormick and I resolved to start onSunday morning. The Zermatt men, threatened with excommunicationby their priests if they failed to attend the early mass, werounable to accompany us. To several of them, at least, this was asevere trial. Peter Perm declared with tears that nothing elsewould have prevented-him from joining in the search for his oldcomrades. Englishmen came to our aid. The Bev. J. Bobertsonand Mr. J. Phillpotts offered themselves, and their guide FranzAndermatten;* another Englishman lent us Joseph Marie andAlexandre Lochmatter. Frédéric Payot and Jean Tairraz, ofChamounix, also volunteered.We started at 2 A.M. on Sunday tho ICth, and followed theroute that we had taken on the previous Thursday as far as thoHörnli. From thence we went down to the right of the ridge,tand mounted through the séracs of the Matterhorngletscher. By8.30 we had got to the plateau at the top of the glacier, andwithin sight of the corner in which wo knew my companions mustbc4 As we saw one weather-beaten man after another raise thotelescope, turn deadly pale, and pass it on without a word to thonext, wo knew that all hope was gone. Wo approached. Theyhad fallen below as they had fallen above—Croz a little in advance,Hadow near him, and Hudson some distance behind ; but of LordF. Douglas we could see nothing.§ We left them where they fell ;* A portrait of Franz Andermatten is given in the engraving facing p. 202.t To tho point marked Z on the map. J Harked with a cross on tho map.§ A pair of gloves, a belt, and boot that had belonged to him, were found. This,somehow, became publicly known, and gave riso to wild notions, which would nothave been entertained had it been also known that tho ahole of tho boots of thosowho had fallen were off, and were lying upon the snow near the bodies.u 2

292 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTERHORN. CHAP. XX.buried in snow at the base of the grandest cliff of the mostmajestic mountain of the Alps.All those who had fallen had been tied with the Manilla,THE MANILLA ROPE.*or with the second and equally strong rope, and, consequently,there had been only one link—that between old Peter and LordF. Douglas—where the weaker rope had been used. This had avery ugly look for Taugwalder, for it was not possible to supposethat the others would have sanctioned the employment of a ropeso greatly inferior in strength when there were more than 250 feet* The three rope« have been reduced by photography to the same scale,

CHAP. XX. A SERIOUS QUESTION. 293of the better qualities still remaining out of use.* For the sakeof the old guide (who bore a good reputation), and upon all otheraccounts, it was desirable that this matter should be cleared up ;and after my examination before the court of inquiry which wasTHE SECOND ROPE.instituted by the Government was over, I handed in a number ofquestions which were framed so as to afford old Peter an opportunityof exculpating himself from the grave suspicions whichat once fell upon him. The questions, I was told, were put* I was one hundred feet or more from the others whilst they were being tied up.and am unable to throw any light on the matter. Croz and old Peter no doubt tiedup the others.

294 TUE ASCENT OF TEE MATTERHORN. CHAR xx.and answered ; but the answers, although promised, have neverreached me.*Meanwhile, the administration sent strict injunctions to recoverthe bodies, and upon the 19th of July, twenty-one men of ZermattTHE ENGLISH CHURCH AT ZERMATT.* This is not the only occasion upon which M. Clemenz (who presided over theinquiry) has failed to give up answers that he has promised. It is greatly to beregretted that he does not feel that the suppression of the truth is equally against thointerests of travellers and of the guides. If the men are untrustworthy, the publicshould be warned of the fact ; but if they are blameless, why allow them to remainunder unmerited suspicion ?Old Peter Taugwalder is a man who is labouring under an unjust accusation.Notwithstanding repeated denials, even his comrades and neighbours at Zermattpersist in asserting or insinuating that he cut the rope which led from him to LordF. Douglas. In regard to this infamous charge, I say that he could not do so at themoment of the slip, and that the end of the rope in my possession shows that he didnot do so beforehand. There remains, however, tho suspicious fact that the ropewhich broke was the thinnest and weakest one that we had. It is suspicious, because

CHAP. XX. REQUIESCAT IN PACE. 295accomplished that sad and dangerous task.* Of the body of LordFrancis Douglas they, too, saw nothing; it is probably stillarrested on the rocks nbove.t The remains of Hudson and Hadowwere interred upon the north side of the Zermatt Church, inthe presence of a reverent crowd of sympathising friends. Thobody of Michel Croz lies upon the other side, under a simplertomb ; whoso inscription bears honourable testimony to his rectitude,to his courage, and to his devotion.So the traditional inaccessibility of the Matterhorn was vanquished,and was replaced by legends of a moro real character.Others will essay to scale its proud cliffs, but to none will itbe the mountain that it was to its early explorers. Others maytread its summit-snows, but nono will ever know tho feelings ofthose who first gazed upon its marvellous panorama ; and none,I trust, will ever be compelled to tell of joy turned into grief, andof laughter into mourning. It proved to bo a stubborn foe; itit is unlikely that any of tho four men in front would have selected an ohi and weakrope when there was abundance of new, and much stronger, ropo to spare; and, onthe other hand, because if Taugwalder thought that an accident was likely to happen,it was to his interest to havo tho weaker rope whero it was placed.I should rejoice to learn that his answers to the questions which wcro put to himwere satisfactory. Kot only was his act at tho crritical moment wonderful as a featof strength, but it was admirable in its performance at the right time. I am toldthat he is now nearly incapablo for work—not absolutely mad, but with intellectgone and almost crazy ; which is not to bo wondered at, whether we regard him ax nman who contemplated a scoundrelly meanness, or as an injured man suffering underan unjust accusation.In respect to young Fctcr, it is not possible to speak in tho samo manner. Thoodious idea that ho propounded (which I liclievo emanated from him) ho hasendeavoured to trade, upon, in spito of tho fact that his father was paid (for lmth) inthe presence of witnesses. AVhatevcr may 1« his abilities as a guide, he is not onoto whom I would ever trust my life, or aflbrd any countenance.* They followed tho route laid down upon tho map, and on their descent were ingreat peril from tho fall of a sérac. The character of the work they undertook maybo gathered from a reference to p. 100.t This, or a sulweqncnt party, discovered a Riceve. No other traces bave l

296 THE ASCENT OF TEE MATTERHORN. CHAP. XX.resisted long, and gave many a hard blow ; it was defeated at lastwith an ease that none could have anticipated, but, like a relentlessenemy—conquered but not crushed—it took terrible vengeance.The time may come when the Matterhorn shall have passed away,and nothing, save a heap of shapeless fragments, will mark thespot where the great mountain stood ; for, atom by atom, inch byinch, and yard by yard, it yields to forces which nothing canwithstand. That timo is far distant ; and, ages hence, generationsunborn will gazo upon its awful precipices, and wonder at itsunique form. However exalted may be their ideas, and howeverexaggerated their expectations, none will come to return disappointed!With the Ascent of the Matterhorn, my mountaineering in theAlps came to n close. The disastrous termination, though castinga permanent cloud over otherwise happy memories, and leaving atrain of life-long regrets, has not altered my regard for the purest,healthiest and most manly of sports; and, often, in grapplingwith every day difficulties, sometimes in apparently hopelesstasks, encouragement has been found in the remembrance ofhard-won victories over stubborn Alps.We who go mountain-scrambling have constantly set before usthe superiority of fixed purpose or perseverance to brute 'force.We know that each height, each step, must be gained by patient,laborious toil, and that wishing cannot take the place of working ;we know the benefits of mutual aid ; that many a difficulty mustbe encountered, and many nn obstacle must be grappled with orturned, but we know that where there's a will there's a way : andwe come back to our daily occupations better fitted to fight thebattle of life, and to overcome the impediments which obstruct ourpaths, strengthened and cheered by the recollection of past labours,and by tho memories of victories gained in other fields.I have not made myself an apologist for mountaineering, nordo I now intend to usurp the functions of a moralist; but my

CHAP. XX. FINALE. 297task would have been ill performed if it had been concludedwithout one reference to the more serious lessons of the mountaineer.We glory in the physical regeneration which is the productof our exertions ; we exult over the grandeur of the scenesthat are brought before our eyes, the splendours of sunrise andsunset, and the beauties of hill, dale, lake, wood, and waterfall ;but we value more highly the development of manliness, and thoevolution, under combat with difficulties, of those noble qualitiesof human nature—courage, patience, endurance, and fortitude.Some hold these virtues in less estimation, and assign base andcontemptible motives to those who indulge in our innocent sport." Re thou chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou «halt not escape calumny."Others, again, who are not detractors, find mountaineering, asa sport, to be wholly unintelligible. It is not greatly to bewondered at—we are not all constituted alike. Mountaineering isa pursuit essentially adapted to the young or vigorous, and not tothe old or feeble. To the latter, toil may be no pleasure ; and it isoften said by such persons, " This man is making a toil of pleasure."Let the motto on the title-page be an answer, if an answer berequired. Toil he must who goes mountaineering; but out of thetoil comes strength (not merely muscular energy—more than that),an awakening of all the faculties; and from tho strength arisespleasure. Then, again, it is often asked, in tones which seem toimply that the answer must, at least, be doubtful, " But does itrepay you ? " Well, we cannot estimate our enjoyment as youmeasure your wine, or weigh your lead,—it is real, nevertheless.If I could blot out every reminiscence, or erase every memory,still I should say that my scrambles amongst the Alps have rejiaidme, for they havo given me two of the best things a man canpossess—health and friends.The recollections of past pleasures cannot be effaced. Evennow as I write they crowd up before me. First comes an endlessseries of pictures, magnificent in form, effect, and colour. I see the

298 THE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. CHAP. XX.great peaks, with clouded tops, seeming to mount up for ever andever ; I hear the music of the distant herds, the peasant's jodel,and the solemn church-bells ; and I scent the fragrant breath ofthe pines : and after these have passed away, another train ofthoughts succeeds—of those who have been Upright, brave, andtrue ; of kind hearts and bold deeds ; and of courtesies received atstranger hands, trifles in themselves, but expressive of that goodwill towards men which is the essence of charity.Still, the last, sad memory hovers round, and sometimes driftsacross like floating mist, cutting off sunshine, and chilling theremembrance of happier times. There have been joys too great tobe described in words, and there have been griefs upon which Ihave not dared to dwell ; and with these in mind I say, Climb ifyou will, but remember that courage and strength are noughtwithout prudence, and that a momentary negligence may destroythe happiness of a lifetime. Do nothing in haste ; look well toeach step ; and from the beginning think what may be the end.

APPENDIX.

APPEKDIX. TIIE DEATH OF BENNEN. 301A. THE DEATH OF BESSES.*On February 28, 1864, Mr. P. C. Gösset and Mr. B started from thevillage of Ardon (about mid-way between Sion and Martigny), to make theascent of the Haut-de-Cry (9688 feet), with the guides J. J. Nance, F. llebot,A. Bevard, and J. J. Bennen. They arrived within a few hundred feet of thesummit before mid-day, and determined to complete the ascent by followingthe crest' of a ridge leading towards the east. Before this could be done itwas necessary to cross some steep snow ; and, while passing this, an avalanchewas unfortunately started. Bennen and Mr. B perished ; the others happilyescaped. The following narrative, from tho jien of Mr. Gösset, illustrates, in avery impressive manner, the danger of traversing new-fallen snow at considerableinclinations :—" We had to go up a steep snow-field, about 800 feet high, as well as Iremember. It was about 150 feet broad at the top, and 400 or 500 at thebottom. It was a sort of couloir on a large scale. During the ascent wesank about one foot deep at every step. Bennen did not seem to like tiiclook of the snow very much. He asked the local guides whether avalanche«ever came down this couloir, to which they answered that our position wasperfectly safe. We had mounted on the northern side of the couloir, andhaving arrived at 150 feet from the top, we liegan crossing it on a horizontalcurve, so as to gain the E. arête. The inflexion or dip of the couloir wasslight, not above 25 feet, the inclinatiou near 35 D . We were walking in thefollowing order:—Bevard, Nance, Bennen, myself, B., and Relxit. Havingcrossed over about three-quarters of the breadth of the couloir, the two leadingmen suddenly sank considerably above their waists. Bennen tightened therope. The snow was too deep to think of getting out of the hole they hadmade, so they advanced one or two steps, dividing the snow with theirbodies. Bennen turned round and told us he was afraid of starting an avalanche;we asked whether it would not be better to return and cross thecouloir higher up. To this the three Ardon men opposed themselves ; theymistook the proposed precaution for fear, and the two leading men continuedtheir work. After three or four steps gained in the aforesaid manner, thesnow became hard again. Bennen had not moved—he was evidently undecidedwhat he should do ; as soon, however, as he saw hard snow again, lieadvanced and crossed parallel to, but above, the furrow the Ardon men hadmade. Strange to say, the snow supported him. While he was passing Iobserved that the leader, Bevard, had ten or twelve feet of rope coiled roundhis shoulder. I of course at once told him to uncoil it and get on the arête,from which he was not more than fifteen feet distant. Rennen then told meto follow. 1 tried his steps, but sank up to my waist in the very first. S1 went through the furrows, holding my elbow» close to my Ivdy, so as notto touch the sides. This furrow was alunit twelve feet long, and as the snowwas good on the other side, we had all come to the false conclusion that* See p. 48.

302 THE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEOBN. APPENDIX.tho snow was accidentally softer there than elsewhere. Bennen advanced;ho had made but a few steps when we heard a deep, cutting sound. Thesnow-field split in two about fourteen or fifteen feet ahovo us. The cleftwas at first quite narrow, not more than an inch broad. An awful silenceensued; it lasted but a few seconds, and then it was broken by Bennen'svoice, '"We are all lost.' His words were slow and solemn, and those whoknew him felt what they really meant when spoken by such a man as Bennen.They were his last words. I drove my alpenstock into the snow, and broughttho weight of my body to bear on it. I then waited. It was an awful momentof suspense. I turned my head towards Bennen to seo whether he had donethe samo thing. To my astonishment I saw him turn round, face the valley,and stretch out both arms. Tho snow on which we stood began to moveslowly, and I felt tho utter uselcssncss of any alpenstock. I soon sank up tomy shoulders, and began descending backwards. From this moment 1 sawnothing of what had happened to the rest of the party. With a good deal oftrouble I succeeded in turning round. The speed of tho avalanche increasedrapidly, and before long I was covered up with snow. I was suffocating whenI suddenly camo to the surface again. I was on a wave of the avalanche,and saw it before mo as I was carried down. It was tho most awful sight Iever saw. The head of tho avalanche was already at the spot where wehad made our last halt. The head alone was preceded by a thick cloud ofsnow-dust; the rest of the avalanche was clear. Around me I heard thehorrid hissing of the snow, and far before mo the thundering of the foremostpart of the avalanche. To prevent myself sinking again, I made use of myarms much in the same way as when swimming in a standing position. At lastI noticed that I was moving slower ; then I saw the pieces of snow in frontof me stop at some yards' distance; then tho snow straight before mc stopped,and I heard on a large scale the same creaking sound that is produced whena heavy cart passes over frozen snow in winter. I felt that I also had stoppai,and instantly threw up both arms to protect my head in case I should again"bo covered up. I had stopped, but the snow behind me was still in motion ;its pressure on my body was so strong, that I thought I should bo crushedto death. This tremendous pressure lasted but a short time ; I was coveredup by snow coming from behind mc My first impulse was to try and uncovermy head—but this I could not do, tho avalancho had frozen by pressurethe moment it stopped, and I was frozen in. "Whilst trying vainly to moveruy arms, I suddenly became aware that the hands as far as the wrist hadthe faculty of motion. The conclusion was easy, they must be above thesnow. I set to work as well as I could ; it was time, for I could not haveheld out much longer. At last I saw a faint glimmer of light The crustabove my head was getting thinner, but I could not reach it any more withmy bauds ; the idea struck rue that I might pierce it with my breath. Afterseveral efforts I succeeded in doing so, and felt suddenly a rush of air towardsmy mouth. I saw tho sky again through a little round hole. A dead silencereigned around me ; I was so surprised to be still alive, and so persuaded atthe first moment that none of my fellow-sufferers had survived, that I did noteven think of shouting for them. I then made vain efforts to extricate my arms,

APPENDIX. LIGETNING-CONDUCTORS. 303hut found it impossible ; tho most I could do was to join tho ends of myfingers, but they could not reach the snow any longer. After a few minutesI heard a man shouting ; what a relief it was to know that I was not thosole survivor 1 to know that perhaps ho was not frozen in and could come tomy assistance ! I answered ; the voice approached, but seemed uncertain whereto go, and yet it was now quite near. A sudden exclamation of surprise 1Bcbot had seen my hands. He cleared my head in an instant, and was aboutto try and cut mo out completely, when I saw a foot above the snow, and sonear to mo that I could touch it with my arms, although they were not quitefree yet. I at once tried to move the foot ; it was my poor friend's. A pangof agony shot through me as I saw that the foot did not move. Poor B. hadlost sensation, and was perhaps already dead. Bcbot did his best : after sometime he wished mo to help him, so ho freed my arms a little more so thatI could make use of them. I could do but little, for Kebot had torn the axefrom my shoulder as soon as he had cleared my head (I generally carry anaxe separate from my alpenstock—tho blade tied to the belt, and tho handleattached to the left shoulder). Before coming to me Robot had helped Nanceout of tho snow ; he was lying nearly horizontally, and was not much coveredover. Nance found Bevard, who was upright in the snow, but covered up tothe head. After about twenty minutes the two last-named guides came up.I was at length taken out; the snow hail to lie cut with the axo down tomy feet before I could be pulled out A few minutes after one o'clock P.M.we catno to my poor friend's face. . . . I wished the body to be taken outcompletely, but nothing could induco the three guides to work any longer, fromthe moment they saw that it was too late to save him. I acknowledge that theywere nearly as incapable of doing anything as I was. When I was taken out ofthe snow the cord had to be cut. We tried the end going towards Bennen, butcould not move it ; it went nearly straight down, and showed us that there wasthe grave of the bravest guide the Valais ever had, and ever will have. The coldhad done its work on us ; we could stand it no longer, and began the descent"B. STBUCK BY LIGHTNING UPON THE MATTEBHOBS.*[Mr. B. B. Heathcote, of Chingford, Essex, whilst attempting to ascend theMatterhorn by tho southern route, was unfortunately used as a lightning-conductor,when he was within 500 feet of tho summit of the mountain. It maybe observed that the Matterhorn (like all isolated Alpine rock summits) isfrequently struck by lightning. Signor Giordano has pointed out elsewherethat he found numerous traces of electric discharges upon its summit] f"On July 30, 1869, in company with Tcter Temi,J Fctcr Taugwalderjunior, and Jos. Maquignaz, I commenced tho ascent. The atmosphere wasclear, and the wind southerly. When very near to tho summit an extremelyloud thunder-clap was heard, and we thought it prudent to descend. We commencedthe descent in tho following order:—Taugwalder first, myself next,* Sec p. 120. t Maltc-Brun's Annales des Voyages, April 18G9.X l'clcr Perm, the well-known guide, died at Zermatt in the winter of 1873-4.

304 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTERHORN. APPENDIX.then ' Perm, and Maquignaz last. Ou approaching tho Col do Felicita * I receiveda sharp, stinging blow on the leg, and thought, at first, that a stone hadbeen dislodged ; but a loud thunder-clap at once told me what it was. Permalso said that he had been hit on the leg. In a few moments I received a hiton the right arm, which seemed to run along it, and resembled a shock froma galvanic battery. At the same time all the men gave a startled shriek, andexclaimed that they were hit "by lightning. The storm continued near us forsome little time, and then gradually died away. On arriving at the cooane Ifound that Perm had a long sore on his arm ; next morning his leg was muchswollen and very weak. We descended to Breil on the following day, andcrossed to Zermatt The same day my hand began to sweU, and it continuedvery weak for about a week. Maquignaz's neck was much swollen on each side ;tho lightning hitting him (according to his account) on the back, and upon eachside of the neck. Taugwaldcr's leg was also slightly swollen. The thunder wastremendous—louder than I have ever heard it before. There was no wind, norrain, and everything was in a mist."C. NOTE TO CHAPTEB VII.It was stated in the commencement of this chapter that the Pointe desEcrins was the highest mountain in France. I havo learned, since that paragraphwas written, that Captain Mieulet has determined that the height of theAiguille Verte is 13,540 feet; that mountain is consequently 78 feet higherthan the Pointe des'Ecrins, and is the highest in France.D. SUBSEQUENT HISTORY OF THE MATTERiroRN.tThe Val Tournanche natives who started to facilitate the way up the southwestridge of the Matterhorn for MM. Giordano and Sella, pitched their tentupon my third platform, at the foot of tho Great Tower (12,992 feet), andenjoyed several days of bad weather under its shelter. On the first fine day(13th of July) they began their work, and about midday on the 14th got on tothe ' shoulder,' and arrived at the base of tho final peak (the point where Bennenstopped on July 28,1862). The counsels of the party were then divided. Two—Jean-Antoine Carrel and Joseph Maquignaz—wished to go on; the otherswere not eager about it A discussion took place, and the result was they allcommenced to descend, and whilst upon the ' cravate ' (13,524) they heard ourcries from the summit. % Upon the 15th they went down to Breil and reportedtheir ill-success to M. Giordano (see p. 281). That gentleman was naturallymuch disappointed, and pressai the men to set out again. § Said he, " Until"now I have striven for the honour of making the first ascent,—fate has decided* A place on the final peak, about half-way between the 'Shoulder' and the summit.t We resume here the account of the proceedings of the Italians who started fromlireil on the 11th of July 1805. Sec p. 269.X The foregoing particulars were related to mc by J.-A. Carrel.§ The following details nre taken from the account of the Ablx! Ami Gorret (publishedin the Feuille d'Aoste, Oct. 1865), who was at Breil when the men returned.

APPENDIX. SUBSEQUENT EISTORY OF MATTERHORN. 305against me,—I am beaten. Patience I Now, if I make further sacrifices it willbe on your account, for your honour, and for your interests. Will you startagain to settle the question, or, at least, to let there be no more uncertainty Î "The majority of the men (in fact the whole of them with the exception of Jcan-Antoine) refused point-blank to have anything more to do with the mountain.Carrel, however, stepped forward, saying, " As for me, I have not given it up ;if you (turning to the Abbé Gorret) or the others will come, I will start againimmediately." " Not 11 " said one. " No more for me," cried a second. " Ifyou would give me a thousand francs I would not go back," said a third. ThoAbbé Gorret alone volunteered. This plucky priest was concerned in tho veryfirst attempts upon the mountain,* and is an enthusiastic mountaineer. Carreland the Abbé would have set out by themselves had not J. B. Bich and J.-A.Meynet (two men in the employ of Favre the innkeeper) come forward at tholast moment. M. Giordano also wished to accompany them, but the men knewthe nature of the work they had to undertake, and positively declined to beaccompanied by an amateur.These four men left Breil at G.30 A.M. on July 16, at 1 P.M. arrived at thothird tent-platform, and there passed the night At daybreak on the 17th theycontinued the ascent by the route which had been taken before ; passed successivelythe Great Tower, the 'crête du coq,' the 'cravate,' and tho ' shoulder,'tand at 10 A.M. gained the point at the foot of the final peak from which theexplorers had turned back on the 14th4 They had then about 800 feet toaccomplish, and, says the Abbé, " nous allions entrer en pays inconnu, aucunn'étant jamais allé aussi loin."The passage of the cleft which stopped Bennen was accomplished, and thenthe party proceeded directly towards the summit, over rocks which for somedistance were not particularly difficult The steep cliffs down which we hadhurled stones (on the 14th) then stopped their way, and Carrel led round to tholeft or Z'Mutt side. The work at this part was of the very greatest difficulty,and stones and icicles which fell rendered the position of the party veryprecarious ; § so much so that they preferred to turn up directly towards thesummit, and climb by rocks that the Abbé termed "almost perpendicular."He added, "This part occupied tho most time, and gave us the greatesttrouble." At length they arrived at a fault in the rocks which formed aroughly horizontal gallery. They crept along this in the direction of a ridgethat descended towards tho north-west, or thereabouts, and when close to the• See Appendix E, attempt No. 1.t These terms, as well as the others, Great Staircase, Col da Lion, Tête du Lion,Chimney, and so forth, were applied by Carrel and myself to the various points, inconséquence of real or supposed resemblances in the rocks to other things. A few ofthe terms originated with the Author, but they are chiefly due to the inventive geniusof J.-A. Carrel.X This point is marked by the red letter E upon the lower of the two outlinesfacing p. 44.§ I have seen icicles more than a hundred feet long hanging from the rocks near thesummit of the Matterhorn.X

"306 :. . TBE ASCENT OF TEE MATTERBORN. APPENDIX.•ridge, found that they could not" climb on to it; but they perceived that, bydescending a gully with perpendicular sides, they could reach the ridge at alower point. Tho bold Abbé" was the heaviest and the strongest of the four, and•he was sacrificed for the success of the expedition. He and Meynet remained•behind, and lowered the others, one by one, into the gully. Carrel and Bichclambered up the other side, attained the ridge descending towards the northwest,shortly afterwards gained an " easy route, they galloped," * and in a fewminutes reached the southern end of the summit-ridge.Tho* timo of their arrival does not appear to have been noticed. It waslato in tho day, I believe about 3 P.M. Carrel and his comrade only waitedlong enough to plant a flag by the side of the cairn that wo had built threedays previously, then descended at once, rejoined the others, and all four hurrieddown as fast as possible to the tent They were so pressed for time that theycould not eat 1 and it was 9 P.M. before they arrived at their camp at the foot ofthe Great Tower. In descending they followed the gallery above mentionedthroughout ita entire length, and so avoided the very difficult rocks over whichthey had passed on the ascent As they were traversing the length of the' shoulder ' they witnessed the phenomenon to which I have already advertedat the foot of p. 289.When Carrel and Bich were near the summit they saw our traces upontho Matterhorngletscher, and suspected that an accident had occurred; theydid not, however, hear of tho Matterhorn catastrophe until their return to Breil,at 3 P.M. upon the 18th. The details of that sad event were in the mouths ofall, and it was not unnaturally supposed, in the absence of correct information,that tho accident was a proof that the northern side was frightfully dangerous.The safe return of the four Italians was regarded, on the other hand, as evidencethat the Breil route was the best Those who were interested (either personallyor otherwise) in the Val Tournanche made the most of the circumstances, andtrumpeted the praises of the southern route. Some went farther, and institutedcomparisons between tho two routes to the disadvantage of the northern one,and were pleased to term our expedition on the 13-14th of July precipitate, andso forth. Considering tho circumstances which caused us to leave the ValTournanche on the 12th of July, these remarks were not in the best possibletaste, but I havo no feeling regarding them. There may be some, however, whomay be interested in a comparison of the two routes, and for their sakes I willplace the essential points in juxtaposition. We (that is the Taugwalders andmyself) were absent from Zermatt 53 hours. Excluding halts and stoppages ofone sort or another, the ascent and descent occupied us 23 hours. Zermatt is5315 feet above the level of the sea, and the Matterhorn is 14,780; .we hadtherefore to ascend 9165 feet. As far as the point marked 10,820 feet theway was known, so we had to find the way over only 3960 feet. The membersof our party (t now include all) were very unequal in ability, and nono of uscould for a moment be compared as cragsmen with Jcan-Antoinc Carrel. Thefour Italians who started from Broil on the I Oth of July were absent- during* The words of the Ahìté. I imagine that he meant comptrativcly easy.

APPENDIX. . MR. CRAUFURD GROVE'S ASCENT. 30756} hours, and as far as I can gather from the published account, and fromconversation with tho men, excluding halts, they took for the ascent anddescent 23! hours. Tho hotel at Breil is 6890 feet above the sea, so they hadto ascend 7890 feet. As far as the end of the 'shoulder' the way was knownto Carrel, and he had to find the way over only about 800 feet. All fourmen were bom mountaineers, good climbers, and they were led by the mostexpert cragsman I have seen. The weather in each instance was fine. It isseen, therefore, that these four nearly equally matched men took a longer timoto ascend 1500 feet less height than ourselves, although we had to find theway over more than four times as much untrodden ground as they. Thisalone would lead any mountaineer to suppose that their route must have beenmore difficult than ours.* I know the greater part of the ground over whichthey passed, and from my knowledge, and from the account of Mr. Grove, Iam sure that their route was not only more difficult, but that it was muchmore difficult than ours.This was not the opinion in the Val Tournanche at the end of 1865, andthe natives confidently reckoned that tourists would flock to their side inpreference to the other. It was, I believe, the late Canon Carrel of Aosta (whoalways took great interest in such matters) who first proposed the constructionof a cabane upon the southern side of the Matterhorn. The project was takenup with spirit, and funds for its execution were speedily provided—principallyby the members of the Italian Alpine Club, or by their friends. The indefatigableCarrel found a natural hole upon the ledge called the 'cravate'(13,524), and this, in course of time, was turned, under his direction, into arespectable little hut. Its position is superb, and gives a view of the mostmagnificent character."Whilst this work was being carried out, my friend Mr. F. Craufurd Groveconsulted me respecting the ascent of the Matterhorn. I recommended himto ascend by the northern route, and to place himself in the hands of Jean-Antoine Carrel. Mr. Grove found, however, that Carrel distinctly preferred thesouthern side, and they ascended accordingly by the Breil route. Mr. Grovehas been good enough to supply the following account of his expedition. Hecarries on my description of the southern route from the highest point I attainedon that side (a little below the ' cravate ') to the summit, and thus renderscomplete my descriptions of the two sides." In August 1867 I ascended the Matterhorn from Breil, taking as guidesthree mountaineers of the Val Tournanche—J. A. Carrel, J. Bich, and S. Meynet,—Carrel being the leader. At that time the Matterhorn bad not liecn scaledsince the famous expedition of the Italian guides mentioned above." Our route was identical with that which they followed in their descentwhen, as will be seen, they struck out on one part of the mountain a differentline from that which they had taken in ascending. After gaining the Coldu Lion, we climbed the south-western or Breil arête by the route which hasbeen described iu these pages, passing the night at the then unfinished hut con-* The pace of a party is ruled by that "f it* tra»t ellitiviit member.x 2

308 TBE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEREORN. APPENDIX.structed by the Italian Alpine Club on the ' cravate.' Starting from the hutat daylight, we reached at an early hour the summit of the ' shoulder,' and thentraversed its arête to the final peak of the Matterhorn. The passage of thisarête was perhaps the most enjoyable part of the whole expedition. The ridge,worn by slow irregular decay into monstrous and rugged battlements, andguarded on each side by tremendous precipices, is grand beyond all description,but does not, strange to say, present any remarkable difficulty to the climber,save that it is exceedingly trying to the head. Great care is of course necessary,but {he scramble is by no means of so arduous a nature as entirely to absorbthe attention; so that a fine climb, and rock scenery, of grandeur perhapsunparalleled in the Alps, can both be appreciated." It was near the end of this arête, close to the place where it abuts againsttho final peak, that Professor Tyndall's party turned in 1862,* arrested by acleft in the ridge. From tho point where they stopped the main tower of theMatterhorn rises in front of the climber, abrupt, magnificent, and apparentlyinaccessible. The summit is fully 750 feet in vertical height above this spot,and certainly, to my eye, appeared to be separated from me by a yet moreconsiderable interval ; for I remember, when at the end of the arête, lookingupward at the crest of the mountain, and thinking that it must he a good 1000feet above me." When the Italian guides made their splendid ascent, they traversed thearête of tho shoulder to tho main peak, passed the cleft which has been mentioned(p. 90), clambered on to the tremendous north-western face of thomountain (described by Mr. Whymper at pp. 277 and 282), and then endeavouredto cross this face so as to get on to the Z'Mutt arête.] The passage ofthis slope proved a work of great difficulty anil danger. I saw it from verynear the place which they traversed, and was unable to conceive how anyhuman creatures managed to crawl over rocks so steep and so treacherous.After they had got about half-way across, they found the difficulties of theroute and the danger from falling stones so great, that they struck straight upthe mountain, in the hope of finding some safer way. They were to a certainextent successful, for they came presently to a small ledge, caused by a sortof fault in the rock, running horizontally across the north-western face of themountain a little distance below the summit Traversing this ledge, theItalians found themselves close to the Z'Mutt arête, but still separated from itby a barrier, to outflank which it was necessary to descend a perpendiculargully. Carrel and Bich were lowered down this, the other two men remainingat the top to haul up their companions on their return, as otherwise they couldnot havo got up again. Passing on to the Z'Mutt arête without further difficulty,Carrel and Bich climbed by that ridge to the summit of the mountain.Iu returning, tho Italians kept to the ledge for the whole distance across thenorth-western face, and descended to tho place where the arête of the shoulderabuts against the main peak by a sort of rough ridge of rocks between thonorth-western and southern faces. When I ascended in 1867, we followed thisrouto in the ascent and in the descent. I thought the ledge difficult, in someplaces decidedly dangerous, and should not care to set foot on it again; but* Sec pp. 83-4 and pp. 90-1. f A ridge descending towards the Z'Muttgletscher.

THE HUT (CABANE) ON THE ZERMATT SIOE OF THE MATTERHORN.FROM A PHOTOORAPM BY THE AUTHOR.

APPENDIXfi'*;.' SIGNOR GIORDANO'S ASCENT.' 309assuredly it neither is so difficult nor so continuously dangerous as those gauntand pitiless rock-slopeswhich the Italians crossed in their upward route"The credit of making the Italian ascent of the Matterhorn belongs undoubtedlyto J;-A. Carrel and to the other mountaineers who accompanied him.Bennen led'his party bravely and skilfully to a point some 750 feet below thetop.' From this point, however, good guide though he was, Bennen had to retiredefeated ; and it was reserved for the better mountain-craft of the Valtoumancheguide to win the difficult way to the summit of the Matterhorn."Mr. Craufurd Grove was the first traveller who ascended the Matterhornafter the accident, and the natives of Val Tournanche were, of course, greatlydelighted that his ascent was made upon their side. Some of them, however,were by no means well pleased that J.-A. Carrel was so much regarded. Theyfeared, perhaps, that he would acquire the monopoly of the mountain. Justa month after Mr. Grove's ascent, six Valtournanchlans set out to see whetherthey'could not learn the route, and so come in for a share of the good thingswhich were expected to arrive. They were three Maquignaz's, Cajsar Carrel(my old guide), J.-B. Carrel, and a daughter of the last named ! They leftBreil at 6 A.M. on Sept 12, and at 3 P.M. arrived at the hut, where they passedthe night At 7 A.M. the next day they started again (leaving J.-B. Carrelbehind), and proceeded along the 'shoulder' to the final peak; passed thocleft which had stopped Bennen, and clambered up the comparatively easyrocks on the other side until they arrived at the base of the last precipice,down which we had hurled stones on July 14, 1865. They (young womanand all) were then about 350 feet from the summit ! Then, instead of turningto the left, as Carrel and Mr. Grove had done, Joseph and J.-Pierre Maquignazpaid attention to the cliff in front of them, and managed to find a means ofpassing up, by clefts, ledges, and gullies, to the summit This was a shorter(and it appears to be an easier) route than that taken by Carrel and Grove, andit has been followed by all those who have since then ascended the mountainfrom the side of Breil.* Subsequently, a rope was fixed over the most difficultportions of the final climb.In tho meantime they had not been idle upon the other side. A hut wasconstructed upon the eastern face, at a height of 12,526 feet above tho sea,near to the crest of the ridge which descends towards Zermatt (north-eastridge). This was done at the expense of Monsieur Seiler and of the SwissAlpine Club. Mons. Seiler placed the execution of the work under the directionof thé Knùbcls, of tho village of St Nicholas, in the Zermatt valley; andPeter Knubel, along with Joseph Marie Lochmattcr of the same village, hadthe honour of making the second ascent of tho mountain upon the northernside with Mr. Elliott This took placo on July 24-25, 1868. Since then* Joseph »nd J.-Pierre Maquignaz alone ascended ; the others had had enough andreturned. It should be observed that ropes had been filed, by J.-A. Carrel and others,over all the difficult parts of the mountain as high as the shoulder, before the advent ofthese persons. This explains the facility with which they moved over ground whichhad been found very trying in earlier times. The young woman declared that the ascent(as far as »he went) was a trifle, or used words to that effect ; if she had tried to get tothe same height before 1862, she would probably have been of a different opinion.

310 TEE ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN.very numerous ascents have been made both on the Swiss and upon the Italianside. The list of ascents will, however, show that far more have been made bythe Zermatt or northern route than by the Breil or southern route.Mr. Elliott supposed that he avoided the place where the accident occurred,and that he improved the northern route. This, however, is not the case.Both he and the others who have succeeded him have followed in all essentialpoints the route which we took upon July 13-15, 1865, with the exception ofthe deviations which I will point out. Upon leaving Zermatt, the travellercommences by crossing a bridge which is commonly termed the Matterhornbridge, and proceeds to the chapel at the Schwarzsee. Thence he mounts theTHE CHACEL AT THE SCHWARZSEE.Hörnli, and follows its ridge along its entire length right up to the foot of theMatterhorn. There is now a good path along the whole of this ridge, but whenwe traversed it for the First Ascent there was not even so much as a faintlymarked track. The first steps which are taken upon the mountain itself followthe exact line over which I myself led upon the first ascent, and the trackpresently passes over the precise spot upon which our tent was placed in 1865.In 1874, and again in 1876,1 saw the initials which I marked on the rock bythe side of our tent. The route now taken passes this rock, and then goesround the corner of the buttress to which I referred upon p. 276. At this pointthe route now followed deviates somewhat from the line of our ascent, and goesmore directly up to the part of the north-east ridge upon which the Cabane isplaced. We bore more away on tu the face of the mountain, and proceeded

APPENDIX. THE SUMMIT IN 1874. 311more directly towards the summit. At the upper part of the ascent of thenorth-east ridgo the route now taken is exactly that of tho first ascent untilthe foot of the final peak is reached; and there, instead of bearing away to theTHE SUMMIT OF THE MATTERHORN IN 1874 (NORTHERN ENI)).right, as wo did, tho tourist now clambers up directly towards the summit bymeans of the fixed ropes and chains. The final portion of the ascent, over thesnow at the summit, again follows our route.So far as the Cabane there is now a strongly marked track, almost a path,

312 TBE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEORN. APPENDIX.over the mountain ; and little piles of stones, placed in prominent situations,point out the way even to the dullest person. What the Cabane itself is likewill be seen by referenco to the illustration which faces p. 309. It is placed ina very insecure position, and will probably one of these days disappear bydisintegration. It is not easy at this part of the mountain to find a goodsituation for a hut, though there is plenty of choice both higher up and lowerdown.Amongst the ascents that have been made which are most worthy of note,that madc*"by Signor Giordano may bo mentioned first This gentleman cameto Breil several times after his famous visit in 1865, with the intention ofmaking the ascent, but he was always baffled by the weather. In July 1866he got as high as the • cravate ' (with J. A. Carrel and other men) and teasdetained there five days and nights, unable to move either up or down. At last,upon Sept. 3-5,1868, he was able to gratify his desires, and accomplished thefeat of ascending tho mountain on ono side and descending it upon the other.Signor Giordano is, I believe, the only geologist who has ascended the mountain.He spent a' considerable time in tho examination of its structure, and becamebenighted on its eastern face in consequence. I am indebted to him for thovaluable note and the accompanying section which follow the Table of Ascents.Signor Giordano carried a mercurial barometer throughout the entire distance,and read it frequently. His observations have enabled me to determine withconfidence and accuracy the heights which were attained upon the differentattempts to ascend the mountain, and the various points upon it which havebeen so frequently mentioned throughout this volume.Questions having been frequently put to me respecting the immediatesummit of the Matterhorn, and difficulties having been expressed as to thorecognition of the two views given upon pp. 279 and 281,1 made an ascent of. the mountain in 1874 to photograph the summit, in order that I might see whatchanges had occurred since our visit of ten years before. The summits of allhigh mountains vary from time to time, and I was not surprised to find thatthe Matterhorn was no exception to the general rule. It was altogether sharperand narrower in 1874 than 1865. Instead of being able " to run about," everystep had to be painfully cut with the axe ; and the immediato summit, insteadof being a blunt and rounded eminence, was a little piled-up cone of snow whichwent to a very sharp point Our photographic operations were conducted withdifficulty, for a furious north wind was blowing which would have whisked awaythe camera immediately if it had been set up in the most convenient position fortaking a view; and we were compelled to cut a great gash in the snow and towork down upon the edge of the cliff overlooking Breil before we could cscapofrom the gusts which were whirling away the snow in writhing eddies. Myguides J. A. Carrel, Bic, and Lochmatter formed a strong party, and eventuallywe gained a position, protected from the wind, whence there was a good view ofthe summit ; but our ledge was so small that we could not venture to unropc,and Carrel had to squat down whilst I photographed over his head. Thoengraving upon p. 311 has been made from the photograph so taken. It willinterest some of my readers to know that the nearest peak, seen below, is thosummit of tho Dent d'Hérens.

APPENDIX. TEE ASCENTS OF 1879. 313The light was not favourable for photographing the Cabane when we returnedfrom the summit, and I stopped alone with Carrel in it for a second night inorder to get the morning light on the next day. Whilst quietly reposing inside,I was startled to hear a rustling and crackling sound, and jumped up, expectingthat the building was about to take itself off to lower quarters ; and presently Iperceived that the hut had a tenant to whom I certainly did not expect to beintroduced. A little, plump mouse came creeping out over the floor, beingapparently of opinion that there ought not to be any one there at that time ofday. It wandered about picking up stray fragments of food, occasionallycrunching a bit of egg-shell, totally unaware of my presence, for I made out thatthe little animal was both blind and deaf. It would have been easy to captureit, but I would not do so, and left it there to keep company with other solitarytourists.The view from the Calane extends from the Bietschhorn on the north to thoGrand Tournalin in the south ; and includes the Mischabcl group, the Allallcinhomand Alphubel, Mont Bosa, etc. etc. Its situation is not high enough tooverlook those mountains, and so the prospect is very similar to the northernand eastern half of the view from the Riffel. The uppermost 800 feet of theMatterhorn can be seen from the hut, but the rest of the part above it is notvisible, being hidden by a small ridge which projects from the face. Whilststopping in the Calane we had the insecurity of its position forcibly impressedupon us by seeing a huge block break away from the rock at its side, and gocrashing down over the very route which is commonly pursued by tourists.The year 1879 is a memorable one in the history of the Matterhorn, for in itthere occurred two deaths upon the mountain, and two new routes were discovered.Sufficient information has not come to hand at the time I write uponwhat is termed the "affaire Brantschen" to enable one to form a correct opinionabout that lamentable business, and it is enough to say that upon August 12 aparty started from Breil, composed of Dr. Liischer, Prof. Schiess, and the guides-J. M. Lochmatter, Jos. Brantschen, and Pctryson of Evolcna. They gained thehut on the ' cravate ' in due course, and on the following day the party crossedthe mountain to Zermatt, with the exception of Brantschen, who was left behindin the hut, some say only slightly ill, and others at the point of death. Whichof these was the case is only known by those concerned. They sent backassistance to their comrade in a somewhat tardy fashion, and when the reliefparty gained the hut Brantschen was found dead.At the time that this was taking place on the southern side of the Matterhorn,an accident occurred on the north-east face by which a life was lost.Messrs. A. E. Craven and Dr. Moselcy (of Boston), with the guides Peter Rubiand C. Inabnit, left Zermatt at 10.30 P.M. on the night of August 13, andascended the mountain by the usual northern route without stopping at thohut. They reached the summit at 9 A.M. on the 14th, and had returned towithin a short distance of tho hut, when Dr. Moselcy (who had found it irksometo lie tied up, and had frequently wished to go unroped) untied himself from therest, doing so entirely upon hi.s own responsibility. A few minutes later, andwithin quite a short distance of the hut, the party had to cross a projectingpiece of rock. Bubi went over first, and planted his axe in position to give

314 TEE A SPENT OF TBE MATTEBEOBN. APPENDIX.firm footing to Dr. Moseley, who followed. But, unhappily, he declined assistance ;placed his hand on the rock, and endeavoured to vault over it. In doing so heslipped, lost hold of his axe, and fell with ever accelerating velocity down almostthe whole of the north-east face. He fell about 2000 feet, and was of coursekilled on the spot. His body was recovered three days later, and was interredin the English burying-ground at ZermattMany persons have talked at different times about the possibility of findinga way up the Matterhorn from the side of the Z'Mutt glacier ; but it was notuntil the year 1879 that a way was found. On September 2-3, Mr. A. F. Mummery,with the guides ? and ? , succeeded in gaining the summit by firstgoing up the long buttress of snow which runs out from the mountain to theZ'Mutt glacier, and then up the rocks above. I have been unable to procureany details respecting this expedition and my only information about it hasbeen derived from Mr. Baumann, who followed in Mr. Mummery's traces threedays later. Mr. Baumann says : " We followed the long ice-slope to its extremeupper end, then the jagged arête above it for a short distance, and then deviateda little to the right, climbing by a secondary rocky ridge descending towardsthe Stockhi until within an hour of the summit, when we struck the main Z'Muttarete and so completed the ascent by joining the Breil route."At the very time that Mr. Mummery was occupied in his expedition,Mr. W. Penhall, with the guides F. Imseng and L. Sorbrichcn, was engaged ina similar enterprise, and also ascended the Matterhorn from the direction of theStockhi. He, however, at the first took a route closer to the Tiefenmattenglacier, though he at last, like the others, eventually got upon the main Z'Muttarête and completed the ascent by following a portion of the Breil route.Neither Mr. Mummery, nor Messrs. Baumann and Penhall, descended bythe routes which they struck out, and in each case the respective partiesdescended by the northern or Zermatt route. It is therefore at present impossibleto determine the relative difficulty of the various routes up the mountain.Still, I think that the great majority of tourists will, as heretofore, prefer theordinary Zermatt route, and that comparatively few will patronize the newlydiscoveredones.The ascent of the Matterhorn has now taken its place amongst those whichare considered fashionable, and many persons get upon it who ought not to beupon a mountain at all. Although much has been done on both sides of itto facilitate the routes, and although they are much easier to traverse thanthey were in years gone by, it is still quite possible to get into trouble uponthem, and to come utterly to grief. Considering how large a number of entirelyincompetent persons venture upon the mountain, it is surprising so few meetwith accidents ; but if the number of accidents continues to increase at itspresent rato it will, ere long, not be easy to find a place of interment in theEnglish churchyard at Zermatt

APPENDIX. TABLE OF ATTEMPTS. 315TABLE OF ATTEMPTS MADE TO ASCEND THE MATTERHORNPREVIOUS TO THE FIRST ASCENT.Date.1858-9.1860.JulyAugust1861.JulyAug. 29Names.J.-Antoine Carrel.J.-Jacqnes Carrel.Victor Carrel.Gab. Maquignaz.I Abbe'Gorret.' Alfred Parker.; Charles Parker.• Sandbach Parker.j V. Hawkins.I J. Tyndall.Messrs. ParkerJ.-Antoine Carrel.J.-Jacques Carrel.Aug.29-30 ; Edward Whymper .1862.January . T. S. KennedyJuly 7-8 .July 9-10July 18-19 iJuly 23-21,iJuly 25-20July 27-281803.Aug. 10-111865.June 21 .iIÎ. J. S. Macdonald.Edward Whymper.R. J. S. Macdonald.Edward Whymper.J. Tyndall .Edward Whymper»» »Side upon which G ^ ]the / ltóc A WM Height Inudelnd Place „^^d. I1 arrived at. ! !Breil side . ! 12,650"Chimney." 'Zermatt side.- Easthcc.Breil sideHawkins got tofoot of "GreatTower," Tyndalla few feet. higher.Breil side"Chimney."Zermatt side .East Tace.Breil sideArête below. "Chimney."Breil side'• Great Tower."P.EM1BU.Several attempts were made beforethis height was attained;the men concerned cannot rememberhow many. See p. 48.11,500? Without guides. P. «6-1.12,992 fluide»—J. J. Bennen and J.-13 050? Jacques Carrel. Pp. 47-9.Zermatt side . 11,700? No guides. P. 49.East face.Breil side 113,2.30 Seep. 57."Crête du Coq."Breil side . 13,400Somewhat higher '.than the lowest ( ,part of the"Cravate." IBreil side . j Ì 3,150" Crête du Coq." j; Breil side . j 13,460j Nearly as high ]as the highest',i part of the j" Cravate." ÌIi! Breil side . : 13,970; " The Shoulder," ;| to foot of final :| peak. !;Breil side . '• 13,280j "Crête du Coq." I: 12,650 . Camped upon the mountain, with'• an Oberland guide. Pp. 51-7.11,000? Winter attempt. Pp. 58-9.12,000 ! Guides-Johann mm Taugwaldj and Johann Kronig. Pp. 61-5.12.992 Guides—J.-A. Carrel and Tession.' P. 66.Alone. Pp. 67-79.Guide»—J.-A.'Carrel, Ca-sar Carrel,and Luc Meynet. P. SO.With Luc Meynet. Pp H-2.Guides—J. J. Bennen and AntonWalter; porters—J.-Antoine Carrel,Osar Carrel, and another.Pp. 83-87, 90-92.Guides—J.-A. Carrel, Casar Car- jrei, Luc Meynet, and two porters, iPp. 114-123. ;i South-east face 11,200 ? Gnides-MIchel Croi, Christian jAimer, Franz Biener ; porter—; i : I.uc Meynet. Pp. 231-235.

316 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEORN. APPENDIX.F. ASCENTS OF THE MATTERHORN.No. ofAscentDate.Karnes.Boute taken.REHAKKS.123456739101112131415IG1718191865.July 13-15July 16-18«*1867.Aug. 13-15Sept. 12-14Oct. 1-3 .1868.July 24-25July 26-28Ang. 2-4 .Aug. 3-4 .Ang. 8 .Sept. 1-2.Sept. 2-3.Sept. 3-5.Sept. 8-9.1869.July 20 .Ang. 26-271870.July 20 (?)1871.July 16-17July 21.22Lord Francis Douglas.D. Hadow.Charles Hudson.Edward Whymper.Jean-Antoine Carrel.J. Baptiste Bich.Ame' Gorret.J.-Augustin Meynet.F. Craufurd Grove .Jos. Maquignaz.J.-Pierre Maquignaz.Victor Maquignaz.Cssar Carrel.J.-B. Carrel.W. Leighton JordanJ. M. Elliott .J. Tyndall .0. Hoiler.F. Thioly.G. E. Foster .Paul Guessfeldt .A. G. Girdlestone .F. Craufurd Grove .W. E. U. Kelso.G. B. Marke .F. Giordano . .Paul Sauzet .James Eccles .E. B. Heathcote .?E. R. Whitwell .F. Gardiner.F. Walker.Lucy Walker.Zermatt(Or Northernroute.)Breil .(Or Southernroute.)Breil .Breil .Breil .ZermattUp Breil sideand down Zermattside.» ?ZermattZermattZermattZermatt0p Breil side• and down Zermattside.Breil .Breil .Breil .ZermattZermattZermattGuides —Michel Croi, Peter Taugwalderfire, Peter Taugwalder/(«. See pp. 271-290.The first two named only ascended to thesummit. See pp. 282,304-6.Guides— J. A. Cam), Salamon Meynet,and J. B. Bich.An easier route was discovered by thisparty than that taken upon July 17,1865.The first two named only ascended to thesummit. See p. 3u9.Guides—the Maquignaz's just named, CaesarCarrel, and F. Ansermin. The Maquignaz'sand Mr. Jordan alone reached the summit.Guides—Jos. Marie Lochmatter and PeterKnubel.Guides—Jos. and Pierre Maquignaz, andthree others.Account given in hotel-book at Breil Is notvery clear. Guides seem to have been Jos.and Victor Maquignaz and Elle Pession.Guides—Hans Baumann, Peter Bernett, andPeter Knubel.Guides — Jos. Marie Lochmatter, Nidi.Knubel, and Peter KnubeLGuides — Jos. Marie Lochmatter and thetwo Knubels.Guides-Nich. Knubel and Pierre Zurbriggen(Saas).Guide»—J. A. Carrel and Jos. Maquignaz.See p. 310.Guidea—J. A. Carrel and Jos. Maquignaz.Gnides—J. A. Carrel, Bich, and two Payots(Chamounix).Guides—The four Maquignaz's (Val Tournanche).Ko details have come to hand.Guldes-UIrich and Ch. Lauener.Uuides-Peter Perm, P. Knubel, N. Knubel.Melchior Anderegg, and Heinrich Anderegg.

APPENDIX. TABLE OF ASCENTS. 317ASCENTS OP THE MATTERHORN (continued).No. ofAscentDale.Karnes.Boute taken.BlKAUS.202122231871.?Aug. 2-3 .Aug. 7-8 .Aug. 18-19— FowlerW. E. Utterson-KelsoR. S. Lyle .C. E. Mathews.F. Morshead.ZermattBreil .Breil .Breil .Guides-C. Knnbel and J. M. Lochmatter.Guides—Victor and Emmanuel Maquignazand Joseph Gillioz.Guides—J. J. Maquignaz and 1Guides-J. A. Carrel and Melchior Anderegg,with two porters.24Sept. 4-5.M. C. Brevoort.W. A. B. Coolidge.Zermatt to BreilGuides—Ch. Aimer, Ulr. Aimer, and N.Knubel.25Sept. 7-8.R. Fowler .ZermattGuides—J. M. Lochmatter and P. Knubel.261872.July 22-23F. Gardiner.T. Middlemore.Zermatt to BreilGuides—J. Maquignaz, Peter Knubel, andJohann Jaun.2728July 21 .July 24-25H. BicknelLR. Pendleburv.W. M. Pendle'bury.C. Taylor.?Zermatt to BreilGuides—Kot known.Guides—Peter Taugwalder fill, GabrielSpechtenhauser, and F. Imseng.29July 26 .J. JacksonBreil to ZermattGuides-Jos. Maquignaz and Anton Bits.30July ? .F. A. Wailroth?Guides—Kot known.31Ang. 29-30A. Rothschild.ZermattGuides—Franz Biener and two Knubels.3233Sept 1-2.Sept. 9-10G. A. Passingham .H. Denning.E. Hntchins.J. Young.ZermattZermattGuides—F. Imseng and Franz Andermatten.Guides—Melchior Schlapp, Peter Rubi, andtwo Knubels.34Sept. 10-11L. Saunderson .ZermattGuides—Peter Bohren and Peter Knubel.35Sept. 11-12E. Millidge .ZermattGuidePolllnger.36Sept. 11-12D. J. Abercromby .ZermattGuldes-N. Knubel and P. J. Knubel.37Sept. 16-17C. BronzetZermattG uides -P. Knubel, F. Truffer, and J. Truffer.381873.July 6-7 .T. Cox.J. Gardiner.ZermattGuides—Peter Knubel and J. M. Lochmatter.39July 6-7 .C. Théraulaz .ZermattGuides—J. GUlot and Ignace Sarbach.404142July 21-22 A. F. Leach .July 21-22July 23-24T. A. Bishop .II. Salmond .ZermattZermattBreil .Guides—P.Taugwalder^b and J.M. Kronig.Guides—P. Knubel P. J. Knubel, and F.Devouassood.Guides—Kot known.4344July 23-24July 25-26A. G. Puller .E. Leatham .Breil to ZermattZermattGuides—J. A. Carrel and Jos. Maquignaz.Guides - P. Knnbel and Joseph Imbodcn.46July 25-27July 29-30W. W. Simpson .M. DcchyBreil to ZermattZermattGuides—J. A. Carrel, P. Maquignaz, and aChamounix guide.Guides—J. A. Carrel and P. Taugwalderjîli.

318 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEOBN. APPENDIX.ASCENTS OP THE MATTERHORN (continued).No. ofAscentDate. .Karnes.Boute taken.REVAEKS.4748495051525354555657585960616263646566676869701873.Aug. 3 .Aug. 6-7 .Aug. 9-10' L. EwbankAug. 11 .Aug. 11-12Aug. 14-15Aug. 15-16Aug. 16 .Aug. 18-22Ang. 22-23Oct 2-3 .1874.July 14-15July 17-18July 18-19July ? .July 19-20July 23-24July 27-29Aug. 7 .Aug. 7-8 .Aug. 7-8 .Aug. 12 .J. Bischoff.E. Burckhardt.Emile Veyrin.G. E. Hulton.F. C. Hulton.Marquis Maglioni .F. DawkinsJ. F. Bramston.F. Morshead.C. II. Hawkins.H. S. Hoare .E. Pigeon.— Pigeon.F. P. Barlow .W. W. StuartT. G. Bonney.F. WolfA. Millot and wife .H. Lamb .J. Baumann .? E. Javelle .L. K. KankineJ. Birkbeck, Jun. .G. F. Cobb.S. Forster.A. M. Tod.M. Bramston .G. DevinAug. 19-20 L. N. WalfordAug. 20-211 A. IX Puckle ..ZermattZermattZermàtt"Zerm'attZermatt•ZermattZermattZermattBreil to ZermattZermattBreil to ZermattZermattZermattZermatt?Zermatt• Breil to ZermattZermatt . ! Guides—A. Pollinger and Jos. Längen.Breil to Breil . j Guidés—J. retins and J. B. Bic. Mr.Birkbeck and Id,« guides started from Breil, >crossed the mountain to the northern side, i1 and returned to Breil, in 19 hours. !Zermatt . ; | Guide»—r. Taugwalder Jits, Jos. Taugwalder,and A. Summermatter.Zermatt .ZermattZermatt . , Guides—Alex. Bnrgener and B. Venetz.Zermatt.Guides-Guides—P. J. Knubel ; porter, Jon. KnubeL"Guidés—J. M. and Alex. Lochmatter.Guides—Ch. Lanener, Johann Fischer, andPeter EubLGuides—P. Knubel, Edouard Capelin ; porter.H. Knubel.Guides—Franz Andermatten, A. Burgener;porter, Abraham lmseng.Guides—Melchior Anderegg, B. Kageli, andJ. M. Lochmatter.Guides—Johann von Bergen and A. Pollinger.Guides—J. A. Carrel, V. Maquignaz. andJ. Martin. This party was confined in thehut on the Italian side from the 18th to the21st of August, by bad weather; and indescending upon the Zermatt side it wa*surprised by night before the rabane couldbe reached, and had to pass the night onthe open mountain-side.Guides—Jakob Anderegg and p. Taugwalderjlti.Guides—Jos. Maquignaz, F. Bic, and Jos.Balmat.Guides—J. M. Lochmatter and J. Petrus.Guides—A. PoUInger and Jos. Lauber.Guides —Melchior Anderegg, A. Maurer, andP. Taugwalder,/!!*.Guides—Not known.Guide—Ulrich Lauener.Guides— !Guldc-B. Xageli.Guides—L. Pollinger «nJ Henri Séraphin.Guides - J. Petrus and tf. Knubel.

•APPENDIX, TABLE OF ASCENTS. 319ASCENTS OP THE MATTERHORN (continued).No. ofAscent Date.- Karnes. Boute taken.1874.Ang.20-21ILLindtAug. 20-22 Edward WhymperAug. 22-23 W. E. DavidsonAug. 23 .Aug. 25 .Aug. 25 .Prof. G. BProf. KF. W. Headley.E. P. Arnold.II. J. Smith .Ang. 25 . M. J. BoswellAug. 26 . W.J.Lewis .Aug. 27 . W. Stirling .Ang. 28 . J..H. Pratt.— Prothero.Aug. 31 .! II. N. Malan .Sept. 1-2 .j W. A. Lewis .j Sept. 2 . ! E. Dent.! C. T. Dent.I Sept. 2 . i J. W. Borei .Sept. 3 .Sept. 8 .Sept. 8 .Sept. 9 .Sept. 16-171875.May 10 .Aug. 2-3 .Ernst CalbenlaA. H. Simpson.M. Cullinnn.A. H. Burton.E. Pigeon.— Pigeon.W. Nlgcli .— CoronaL. Briosctii .Aug. 10 . J. W. HartleyAug. 10-11 ' F. T. WetheredAug. 11 .. j A. Fairbanks.i W. Fairbanks.Aug. 12Aug. 16Au S . l'it D. L. PickmanI). MerrittE. HornbyZermatt. ! Guides—Ig. Sartori and Peter Sulzer.Zermatt . Guides—I. A. Carrel, J. B. Bic, and J. M.{ l^chmatter. An ascent made for theI sake of photography. Passed two nightsj in the Zermatt ctitune.ZermattZermatt. I Guides—Laurent Lanier and Ig. Sarbach.? Guides-P. Maquignaz, E. Pession, and Chas Ji Gorret. Account U illegible..'Guides—A. Pollinger and J. J. Truffer.Zermatt . Guides—Alex. Locbmatter and Jos. Längen.Zermalt . Guides-Jos. Imboden and Jos. Sarbach.Zermatt . Guides -Moritz Julen and Jos. Taugwalder. jZermatt . Guides—Johann Petrus and Franz Burgener..Zermatt . Guides—J. A. Carrel and P. KnubeL Ascent ;Jmade tu one day.i Zermatt . Guides—Jean Martin and A. Lochmatter.; Zermatt . Guides-J. M. Lochmatter and P. Imboden.j Zermatt . Guide-A. Burgener.I Zermatt . Guides-A. Pollinger and J. J. Truffer.Zermatt . Guides—P. Bohren and P. Müller.Zermatt . Guides—P. Knubel, P. J. Knubel, and P.Truffer.Zermatt . Guides—P. Baumann, P. Taugwalder, and !B. NagelLZermatt . Guides -N. and J. Knubel. and F. Sarbach. IiZermatt . Guides—J. and P. Knubel.? Guides—J. A. Carrel ami J. J. Maquiguaz.Account Is perfectly lllegibte.Zermatt . • Guldes-F. and A. Imseng and P. J. Andcrj. mattenZermatt. ! Guides-P. Eubi and J. Moser.• Zermatt . Guldes-Ch. Aimer and A. Pollinger.; Zermatt . Guide—J. Temi, and a porter.'' ZermattZermattZermatt. j Guides— 1. Taugwalder and F. Biener.i Ascent made in one day..Guides—Xo information.. Guides—A. and F. Pollinger.!

320 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEOBN. APPENDIX.ASCENTS OP THE MATTERHORN (continued).No. ofAscentDate.Karnes.Boute taken.Bill MKS.98991001011021031041051061071081091101111121131141151161171181191201211221231875.Aug. 16 .Aug. 16 .Au£. 17 .Aug. 19-20Aug. 23-24 H. E. Whitehouse .Aug. 26-27Sept. 7 .Sept. 8 .Sept 8 .Sept. 9 .Sept 14 .Sept. 15 .1876.July 22-23July 29 .July 30 .Aug. 3-4.Aug. 3-4 .Aug. 6-7 .Aug. 7 .Aug. 8-9 .Aug. 8-9 .Aug. 8-9 .Aug. 9 .Ang. 9-10Aug. 10 .Aug. 12 .J. J. Morgan.C. L. Morgan.A. W. Payne .J. H. Pratt.W. Leaf.F. Tendron.G. F. Vernon.F. Morshead.A. O. Prickard.H. S. Wilson.H. G. Gotch .R. King. .H. Loschge .P. Methuen . .— Butter .W. Kittau .A. H. Cawood.J. B. Colgrovc.A. Cust.J. Hazel.AV. F. Loverell.Eug. DacquiS .F. Corbett.M. Courtenay.P. A. Singer.P. A. Singer.D. E. CardinalF. Keinen.M. Haushofer'.H. de Saussure .W. Cooke .J. J. Bischoff.Joseph Seiler. .W. J. Whelpdalc.C. Weightmann.P. Watson .S. Waller.G. Fitzgerald.ZermattZermattBreil to ZermattZermattZermattZermatt .ZermattZermattBreil to ZermattZermattZermattZermattZermattZermattZermatt .Zermatt ,Zermatt .ZermattZermatt .ZermattZermattZermattZermattZermatt .Zermatt .ZermattGuides—J. Imboden and J. Sarbach.Guide—J. Taugwalder.Guides—J. A. Carrel and N. Knubel.Guides—F. and P. Sarbach and J. Taugwalder.Guides—P. J. Knubel and P. T. Truffer.Guides—M. Anderegg, Ch. Lauener, andJ.Moser.Guides—Ig. and Jos. Sarbach.Guides—J. A. Carrel and Jos. Coulter, and(porter) A. Payot.Guides—J. Petrus and A. Barder.Gnides-^Johann Jsun and A. Maurer.Guides—Jos. Imboden and J. Brantschen.Guides—J. Petrus and Franz Burgener.Without guides, and with two porters.Guides—P. Maquignaz and F. Zuber.Guides—Borren (.Bohren?) and Platter (?>Guides—F. Burgener, P. Taugwalder fit,and J. Taugwalder.Guides—J. Imboden, Jos. Perm, P. Perm,and F. Ferrn (porter).Guides—Pierre Carrel and Louis CarreLGuldes-P. and J. KnubeLGuides—A. Burgener and J. KnubeLGuides-Louis Carrel and lierre CarreLG oldes-J. Petrus, P. T. Truffer, and another.Guides— —Lanberand Ì An one day ascent.Guldes-^T. M. Lochmatter, A. Bits, andJoe. Brantschen as porter.Guides—Alex. Burgener and B. Veneti.Guides—J. M. Lochmatter and J. Lauber.

APPENDIX. TABLE OF ASCENTS. 321ASCENTS OF THE MATTERHORN (continued).No. oAscen [ Date.Names.Route taken.REHAKKS.1241251261271281291301311321331341351361371381391401411421431441451461 147j! 14811491876.Aug. 12 .Aug. 12 .Aug. 12 .Aug. 14 .(?)Ang. 28-291877.Aug. 4 .Aug. 13-14Ang. 19 .Aug. 20 .Aug.24-25Aug. 29 .Aug. 30 .Aug. 30 .Aug. 30-31Aug.30-31Sept. 4 .Sept. 4-5.Sept. 6-7 .1878.?Sept. 7 .Sept. 9 .Sept. 21 .Sept. 11-121879.Aug. 12-13Aug. 13 .II. Meyer.C. Estertag.J. Jackson.T. H. KiUon.Jos. NantermodC. E. Mathews.F. Morshead.— DentG. W. Prothero .0. Boenand.G. Mermod,L. Mermod.Q. Sella.L. Biraghi.W. H. Grenfell.J. H. A. Feebles.W. Penhall .G. Fitzgerald.J. A. Cooper .J. D. GriffithsJ. F. YearsleyJ. C. Leman .T.de Cambray DignyJ. Freitschke .II. LoFchgeJ. Nérot.T. Jose .Carl HeckeJules Seiler .Dr. MinnigerodeC. J. ThompsonDr. Löscher.Prof. Schiess.W. W. R. Powell .ZermattZermattZermattZermattZermattZermatt to BreilZermattZermatt to BreilBreil .ZermattZermattZermattZermattZermattZermattZermatt to BreilZermattZermatt to BreilBreil to ZermattZermattZermattZermattZermatt .Zermatt .Up Breil sideand down Zermattside.ZermattG aides—Jos. Brantschen, P. J. Knubel, andJos. Taugwalder.Guides—Christian and Ulrich Almer. Ascentin one day.Guides—A. ToIUnger and B. AndenmaUen.Guides—M. Anderegg and ? Ascentmade in one day.Guide—Alex. Burgener.Guide—J. A. Carrel.Guides—No information.Guides—I.A.Carrel, — Imseng, J.B.Carrel,Louis Carrel, Jos. and Vict. Maquignaz, etcetcGuides— — Imseng and IGuides—Jos. Imboden and P. Taugwalder/'*.Guides—J.M. Lochmatter and Joseph Lauber.Guides—Alex, and Alois Burgener.Guides—Basile Andenmatten and ?Guides—F. Burgener, P. Andenmatten, and(porter) — Blumenthal.Guides Pollinger and fGuides—J. A. Carrel and 1 lenii Séraphin.Guide—Basile Andenmatten.Guides—Alex. Burgener and a Tyrol guide.Guides—J. A. Carrel, a Chamounix guide,and a porter.Gnides—J. M. Lochmatter, P. Knubel, andPierre Trailer.Guide—Basile Andenmatten.Guides—P. Knubel and Basile Andenmatten.Guides—J. M. Locbmatter and J. TaugwalderGuides—J. A. Carrel and — Imseng.Gnides—J. M. Lochmatter, Jos. Brantschen,and Petryson (Kvolena). Brantschen wasleft behind In the hnt on the"crutate,"and died there.G uldes— Peter Taugwalderjf It and A. Imseng.

322 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEORN. APPENDIX.ASCENTS OF THE MATTERHORN (continued).No. orAscentDate.Names.Route taken.RUAUS.1501511521531541551561571581591879.Aug. 13-14Aug. 13-14Aug. 28-29Aug. 30-Sept. 1. •Sept. 2-3.Sept. 2-3 .Sept. 4-5 .Sept 4-5.Sept. 5-6.?C. E. FreemanA. E. Craven.W. 0. Moseley.C. E. B. Watson .G. II. Savage .A. F. MummeryW. Pcnhall .B. Walnewrîglit .H. HoareJ. Baumann .J. Maurer . .Breil to ZermattZermattZermatt to BreilZermattZ'Mutt side .Z'Mutt side .Zermatt to BreilZermattZ'Mntt side .Breil to ZermattGuides—J. A. Carrel and — Sopersac (Saas).Guides—P. Rubi and C. Inabnit. Dr. Moseleylost his life in descending the mountain.See Appendix 0.Guides—P. Anderegg and A. Imboden.Guides—Jos. Imboden and Franz Andermatten.Dr. Savage slept on the HörnliAug. 30 ; began the ascent by moonlightat a little before 3 AM. on Sept. 1, reachedthe summit at 6.30 ajr n and returned toZermatt by 12 JO rji.Mr. Mummery was the first to ascend theMatterhorn from the side of the Z'MuttGlacier. No details have been received.Guides—Ferdinand Imseng and Louis Sorbrieten.Mr. Penhall also made his ascentupon the Z'Mutt side, but took a routemore to the south than that followed byMr. Mummery.Guides—Jos. Imboden and Peter Sarbach.Guide—J.Anderegg and (porter) Jos.Chanton.Guides—Petrus (Stalden) and Emue Bey.Mr. Mummery's route was followed.Guides— ? Ko Information.The above table is known to "bo imperfect, and' the Author will be obliged ifcorrespondents will enable him to correct and extend it. Communications shouldbe addressed to him Care of the Publisher.

APPENDIX. GEOLOGY OF TEE MATTEBEORN. 323G. COURTE NOTE SUB LA GÉOLOGIE DU MATTERUORN. Par SIGNORF. GIORDANO, Ingénieur en Chef des Mines d'Italie, etc. etc.Le Matterhorn ou Mont Cervin est formé depuis la base jusqu'au sommetde roches stratifiées en bancs assez réguliers, qui sont tous légèrement relevésvers l'Est, savoir vers le Mont Kose. Ces roches quoiqu'évidemment d'originesedimentalo ont une structure fortement cristalline qui doit être l'effet d'unepuissante action de métamorphisme très développée dans cette région desAlpes. Dans la série des roches constituantes du Mont Cervin l'on peut faireune distinction assez marquée, savoir celles formant la base inférieure de lamontagne, et celles formant le pic proprement ditLes roches de la base qu'on voit dans le Yal Tournanche, dans le vallonde Z'Mutt, au col de Théodule et ailleurs, sont en général des schistes talqueux,serpentineux, chloriteux, et amphiboliques, alternant fort souvent avec desschistes calcaires à noyaux quartzeux. Ces schistes calcaires de couleurbrunâtre alternent ça et là avec des dolomies, des cargueules, et des quartzitestégulaires. Cette formation calcaréb-scrpentineuse est très étendue dans lesenvirons. Le pic au contraire est tout formé d'un gneiss talqueux, souvent àgros éléments, alternant parfois à quelques bancs de schistes talqueux etquartzeux, mais sans bancs calcaires. Vers le pied ouest du pic, le gneiss estremplacé par de l'cuphotide granitoïdo massive, qui semble y former une grosselentille se fondant de tous côtés dans le gneiss même. Du reste, les roches duCervin montrent partout des exemples fort instructifs de passages graduelsd'une structure à l'autre, résultant du métamorphisme plus ou moins avancé.Le pic actuel n'est que le reste d'une puissante formation géologiqueancienne, triasique peut-être, dont les couches puissantes de plus de 3500mètres enveloppaient tout autour comme un immense manteau le grand massifgranitolde et feldspathique du Mont Rose. Aussi son étude détaillée, qui parexception est rendue fort facile par la profondeur des vallons d'où il surgit,donne la clef de la structure géologique de beaucoup d'autres montagnes desenvirons. On y voit partout le phénomène assez curieux d'une puissanteformation talqueusc très cristalline, presque granitoïde, régulièrement superposéeà une formation schisteuse et calcarifère. Cette même constitution géologiqueest en partie la cause de la forme aiguë et do l'isolement du pic qui en font lamerveille des voyageurs. En effet, tandis que les roches feuilletées de la base,étant facilement corrodées par l'action des météores et de l'eau, ont été facilementcreusées en vallées larges et profondes, la roche supérieure qui constituela pyramide donne lieu par sa dureté à des fendillements formant des paroisescarpées qui conservent au pic ce profil élancé, et caractéristique alpin. Lesglaciers qui entourent son pied de tous les côtés, en emportant d'uno manièrecontinue les débris tombant de ses flancs, contribuent pour leur part à maintenircet isolement de la merveilleuse pyramide qui sans eux serait peut-être

324 TEE ASCENT OF TEE MATTEBEORN. APPENDIX.REFERENCES TO THE GEOLOGICAL SECTION OF THE MATTERHORN.I. Gneiss talqueux quartzifère. Beaucoup de traces de foudres.IL Banc de 3 à 4 mètres de schistes serpentineux et talqueux verts.III. Gneiss talqueux à éléments plus ou moins schisteux, avec quelque litde quartzite.„ Gneiss et micaschistes ferrugineux à éléments très fins, beaucoup de„ traces de foudre.IV. Gneiss alternant avec des schistes talqueux et à des felsites en zonesblanches et grises.V. Petite couche de schistes serpentineux, vert sombre.VI. Gneiss et micaschiste avec zones quartzifères rubanées.VII. Gneiss talqueux à éléments schisteux.VIII. Id. id. verdâtre, porphyroîdc à éléments moyens.IX. Gneiss talqueux granitoîde à gros éléments et avec des cristaux defeldspath.X. Schistes grisâtres.XI. Micaschistes ferrugineux.XII. Gneiss talqueux vert sombre.Xlir. Gneiss et schistes quartzeux, couleur vert clair.XIV. Euphotide massive (feldspath et diallage) à éléments cristallins biendéveloppés, traversée par des veines d'eurito blanchâtre. Cette rocheforme un banc ou plutôt une lentille de plus de 600 mètres depuissance intercalée au gneiss talqueux.*XV. Gneiss talqueux alternant avec des schistes talqueux et micacés.XVI. Schistes compactes, couleur vert clair.XVII. Calcaire cristallin micacé (calcschiste) avec veines et rognons de quartz.Il alterne avec des schistes verts chloriteux et serpentineux.XVIII. Schistes verts chloritoux, serpentineux et talqueux, avec des masses. stéatiteuses.XIX. Calcschistes (comme ci-dessus) formant un banc de plus de 100mètres-tXX. Schistes verts chloriteux.XXI. Calcschistes (comme ci-dessus).XXII. Il suit ci-dessous uno série fort puissante de schistes verts serpentineux,chloriteux, talqueux et stéatiteux alternant encore avec descalcschistes. En plusieurs localités les schistes deviennent trèsamphiboliques à petits cristaux noirs. Cette puissante formation< calcaréo-serpentineuse repose inférieurement sur des micaschisteset des gneiss anciens.* Cette roche granitoîde paraît surtout i la base ouest du pic sons le col du Lion, tandisqu'elle ne parait pas du tout sur le flancest, où elle parait passer au gneiss talqueux. -t En plusieurs localités des environs, cette zone calcarifère presente des bancs et deslentilles de dolomie, de cargueule, de gypse et de quart zi te.

tGEOLOGICAL SECTION OF THE MATTERHORN. (MONT CERVIN)BY SIGNOR F. GIORDANO.14780 SUMMIT13970 THE "SHOULDER" [L'ÉPAULE]13524 UCT OX TnE ITALIAN SIDE 'CRAVATE'ISSSO EB0FBS80S TYXDALL'S CORD fl362j1-2992 AUTHOR'S THIRD TEXT PLATFORM12550 TnE SECOXD TEXT PLATFORM1Ü526 THE HUT OX THE SWISS BIDS11S44 COL DU LIONAU'CUoK'à FIRST TEST PLATFORM6690 HOTEL AT GIOSÖISCGU CHALETS OF BREIL

APPENDIX. PROF. TYNDALL AND TEE MATTEREORN. 325H. PROFESSOR TYNDALL AND THE MATTERHORN.In the second edition of Tyndall's Eours of Exercise in the Alps the Professormade some additional remarks upon his defeat in 1862, and to theseremarks I replied in No. 35 of the Alpine Journal. I do not feel that theadditional information afforded in these publications possesses the least interestto the majority of my readers, and therefore I do not reprint it ; and I refer toit only for the sake of those who may be desirous to pursue the subject.I-OXDON: rRiNTEr. BT WILLIAM CXOWES AND SOSS, STAKFORD STREETAND CÏIARÏNG CROSS.

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